


Cyril, Rhea, And Other Such Nonsense

by BeetlesMcGee



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Animal Death, Comedy, Cyril is largely oblivious or too polite to call this out, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Rhea is well-meaning but kind of a disaster, Rhea sucks at keeping secrets, Seteth and Flayn are Very Tired, Slice of Life, Spoilers, especially with Rhea, i am kind of working up to a plot but its not like really big or anything, intentional ooc, its also getting a little more romantic than expected, mother/son relationship between cyril and rhea, since cyril hunts, this is getting sadder than anticipated but it's an optimistic sort of story overall, this premise is kinda dumb but I HAD TO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20368828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeetlesMcGee/pseuds/BeetlesMcGee
Summary: Cyril wouldn't necessarily say he disliked or regretted being taken in by the monastery, but the whole thing was definitely far stranger than he was expecting.And at the very center of that strangeness was none other than Lady Rhea herself....To complicate matters, and to make life stranger for just about everyone involved, Rhea seems especially determined to mother Cyril to the best of her ability...Even if certain things about her, and certain quirks of her personality, make the whole process rather... odd.For starters, is she even human?Mostly a comedy/oddball slice of life, with some serious moments.  Rhea is an odd woman, but more genuinely well-meaning.Definitely contains spoilers, mostly pertaining to Rhea's background and true nature, although it's been altered to fit the story better.Any ships brought up are typically mild and comedic in nature, and not the focus by any means.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story idea I came up with bc I actually like Cyril a lot and found his devotion to Rhea kind of touching. But at the same time, I felt like he really deserved a proper mother figure after all the Fuckshit he’s been through, while also feeling like I wanted something more silly and lighthearted in contrast to all the Wild Shit in the games.
> 
> And so I ended up with This, a semi-serious but largely oddball slice of life/comedy centered story about Rhea basically being Cyril’s new mom.... and all the consequences of such an arrangement. (And by extension, the monastery being Cyril’s new family). She is more well-intentioned than canon, with her oddities and secretive behaviors typically being less serious and more for laughs.
> 
> I’ve only actually played through Golden Deer so far, but I do know spoilers about Rhea’s background. A lot of that will be disregarded, adjusted, or reinterpreted as needed.
> 
> I don’t plan on any major shipping between anyone unless this goes on long enough to reach the timeskip, but there will still be crushes for comedic purposes.

**Date: Roughly three months before Byleth’s arrival at Garreg Mach**

* * *

Cyril wasn’t stupid. He knew that Lady Rhea was… odd. He knew her teeth were sharper than usual, so she tried her best not to smile too wide. He knew she was strangely tall, and way stronger than she looked. He knew how it was impossible to pin down her age, between her youthful looks and wise speeches. He just figured that it was probably impolite to mention any of that. 

After all, Lady Rhea was so wise, and generous, and beautiful, he’d hate to accidentally offend her… Plus, he figured that a lot of things were probably just things he could chalk up to Fodlan’s culture being different. Wouldn’t want to insult her and her whole culture, after all.

Even if some things were a little weird to get used to.  
  
It all started with being invited to eat meals with her, Flayn, and Seteth, about a month after he was taken in.

“I just worry that you’re getting enough nutrition. A lot of tasks around the monastery require a lot of strength and stamina, and you’re very young. I wouldn’t want to stunt your growth or risk your health.” Rhea explained, simply enough.

Cyril thought that part sounded perfectly sensible, given that he was aware that he was smaller than average for his age, and there were plenty of things that made him wish he were stronger… Which clashed pretty strongly with how much he disliked asking for help.

But rather than the monastery’s cafeteria, Rhea instead led him to a more private room on the second floor, smaller but beautifully decorated. He expected more servants helping to set the table, but Flayn and Seteth were the only other people there. Instead, Rhea merely did it herself, muttering something songlike under her breath before a vast array of dishes and accompanying tableware began appearing, nigh-effortlessly being summoned from elsewhere before settling themselves on the table just so.  
  
Cyril quietly gasped as his eyes widened to the same size as the dinner plates, but Flayn and Seteth seemed rather used to it… not to mention, a lot less surprised by what the food ended up being. Not only was there way more than he was expecting just for the four of them, but nearly _ everything _ was some kind of meat, whether it was breast, ribs, fillets, or offal, apart from some sparse vegetables they were cooked with for flavor, and some odd herbs and berries he wasn’t familiar with… But they made up only a small fraction of the meal. And for the most part, the meat was typically cooked pretty rare, often still bloody.  
  
Cyril found it a little odd, but he was too excited to think too hard about it. After all, having a lot of meat when it wasn’t even a special occasion was something typically relegated to the upper class, and he’d been used to having no choice but to eat mostly vegetarian. Plus, he’d been fully expecting that being in the monastery would effectively mean being forced to avoid any kind of indulgence or decadence, for religious purposes.

Still, not wanting to seem ignorant or irresponsible with dietary matters, Cyril spoke up. “Lady Rhea, this is… this is an honor, but aren’t vegetables good for you too?” Cyril asked.  
  
“I…” Rhea went strangely quiet. “Yes, I suppose that is true, but you see, I have an, um…” Rhea trailed off for a moment, coughing somewhat awkwardly as Seteth kept furtively glancing at her. “A _ condition. _ Yes, yes that’s it!” Rhea said, sounding strangely relieved. “A condition that keeps me from eating many plants. I was born with it, and yes, it is definitely a real condition, and there are certainly no other strange reasons I am a carnivore, haha!” Rhea said.  
  
“I… wouldn’t have thought there are?” Cyril responded, frowning with slight confusion. “I trust you no matter what.”  
  
Rhea just blinked and made another odd chuckle. Seteth looked kind of annoyed with her for some reason. “Of course, of course! But don’t worry! With the variety of meat and other ingredients here, this will surely provide all the nutrients a growing young human would need too. ...Probably.”

Cyril shrugged off how odd it was for her to phrase it as ‘young human’, or add on that ‘probably’, too distracted by the experience as a whole. Instead, they all sat down and started in on dinner… by which time he found himself even more distracted by how his portion and his plate in itself were both far bigger than what he was used to, but he didn’t want to speak up, figuring it was some kind of hospitality thing. He figured it’d be equally impolite to gawk at everyone else’s serving being just as huge, even Flayn’s. She was barely much bigger than him, how in the world was she even _ doing _ that?! Still, he carefully started in, doing his best to eat slowly and politely enough that it wouldn’t offend anyone. It really was some of the best food he'd ever eaten, even if it was an utterly ridiculous amount and he’d never even heard of half the kinds of meat being offered...  
  
Rhea watched carefully, doing her best to look calm but internally having a minor panic as Seteth glared at her.  
  
She’d realized with dawning horror that she actually couldn’t remember how much human adolescents ate, or what exactly they needed to eat, and she wasn’t sure if the boy was still suspicious of her, or if she was being too suspicious as she steadfastly fought the urge to just forgo her Normal Human Chewing and swallow her dinner in large chunks. Humans could still handle large amounts of meat at once, couldn’t they? Even at Cyril’s size? Giving him too much was probably better than not enough… Or was it? Dear oh dear, she’d have to refresh herself on all the pesky minutiae of human biology again, it’d been so long…

She knew she couldn’t rely on Cyril himself to gauge the real answer, he’d just be polite no matter what. He was eating slowly enough that she wasn’t even sure if he actually liked it or he was secretly mulling over her suspicious behavior and figuring out her Secret, which she was so, so certain she’d kept perfectly hidden!  
  
Her gaze upon Cyril intensified, anxiety and uncertainty building, thoughts running away with her to the point that she wasn’t sure why Flayn abruptly stopped devouring fish to drop everything and cry “Lady Rhea!” until it was too late. 

Cyril looked up from his meal just in time to see Rhea staring intensely at him with the slitted pupils she’d accidentally manifested in her anxiety over the whole predicament. He gave a high pitched squeal as he stared back in abject shock, struggling to believe what he was seeing.  
  
“L-Lady Rhea, your eyes!” Cyril cried, swiftly scooting back in his chair and reflexively holding on to his knife in an attempt to defend himself.  
  
“Cyril, my dear boy, it’s… it’s not what it looks like! Especially if it happens to look anything like dragon eyes! I do apologize!” Rhea cried, immediately averting her gaze as Flayn and Seteth exchanged panicked glances, both silently and hurriedly wracking their minds for a solution before their entire plan was torn down by the likes of some freshly adolescent boy.  
  
“Cyril, calm yourself, this is merely… merely, an, uh-” Seteth started, sporting a strained grin as his eyes subtly begged Flayn for help.  
  
Flayn scrambled to think of something, until she finally thought about something Rhea had just said. ‘Not what it looks like’! Of course! Genius!  
  
“Oh, that was, uh, just a small illusion, Cyril! That’s all!” Flayn hastily explained.  
  
“Oh, yes, certainly! An illusion!” Seteth said, clearing his throat and calming down quite quickly. “Rhea is quite good at those!” Seteth finished.  
  
“Yes. An illusion. So there’s nothing to worry about, my sweet Cyril. I am indeed good at illusions, but definitely not because I have hundreds of years of practice, or because I am secretly not human, or any silly conspiracy of the sort!” Rhea said cheerfully. Both Flayn and Seteth gave her brief, withering glares that Cyril didn’t quite notice. Rhea quickly went silent, blushing slightly.

Cyril was still so startled that he didn’t notice the oddly specific denial at all, although he did calm down slightly. “Oh… I guess it would make sense that you have a lot of talents, Lady Rhea… B-but why did you do that, anyway?”

“Oh, well, it’s just… you were eating so slowly, I thought something might be distracting you! And I certainly don’t want you to let your food get cold! So I wanted to covertly get your attention! I didn’t know it would be so alarming, nor was I simply triggering such a thing unintentionally due to anxiety! I truly apologize.”  
  
Cyril was too polite to point out that he’d never actually accused her of that last part, simply nodding stiffly in understanding before starting in on his food with much more vigor than before.

“_ Crisis averted,” _ Flayn whispered to Seteth.  
  
“ _ Barely,” _ Seteth responded lowly. _ “This woman will be the death of us.” _  
  
Rhea just timidly muttered an apology to them and went back to the meal.

After some time, Cyril somehow managed to finish everything on his plate, despite how arduous the process was. Sure, it was genuinely delicious, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fueled mostly by fear of disappointing Rhea. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about her was… relaxing, yet foreboding, all at the same time.

Regardless, he hadn’t been expecting to end up nauseous and struggling to stand… or expecting Rhea to suddenly rise from her seat and scoop him up like he was nothing… come to think of it, didn’t the others all eat just as much as him? How’d they all manage that so easily? Especially Flayn… Where were the bones on their plates, anyway? They must’ve already disposed of them when he wasn’t looking...  
  
Cyril couldn’t really puzzle over it too much longer, finding himself caught between mortification and begrudging comfort as Rhea easily carried him like a little kid… She was so warm, and she smelled so good, and she was gently humming something really pretty… but… he couldn’t just let himself be babied! He had to prove he was responsible and capable! Jeez, was he really _ that _lightweight?!

“L-Lady Rhea, um, I appreciate the thought, but may I please be let down? I-I can walk by myself...”

“I know that, but surely you’ve had a long day… and no one to care for you. It must be hard,” Rhea said soothingly.

Cyril tensed briefly, feeling strange and vulnerable for a moment, but the vulnerability was almost immediately drowned in discomfort, feeling so unused to and undeserving of the tenderness he was receiving.

“P-please put me down…” Cyril weakly repeated, although he had trouble conveying any genuine urgency in his tone.

“I know what it’s like… all alone, having to fit in with strange new people, having to adapt to their whims and try to impress them, try to live up to their expectations…” Rhea said, her voice sounding strangely wistful and far-away, as if she weren’t quite talking to him anymore.. “Constantly having to put them ahead of yourself… Constantly worrying about how you’re going to pull through.... Centuries of that monumental pressure, weighing on you…” Rhea suddenly paused and chuckled awkwardly as Seteth coughed loudly. “Metaphorically, of course! It just feels like such a long time, is all!” 

Cyril didn’t really notice the odd shift, too busy processing Rhea’s words as his walls steadily broke down. She continued to speak, a bit more hurriedly than before. “Anyway, my dear, that’s why I want to be there for you when possible… even if I don’t always necessarily _ need to, _ I’d certainly _ like _to… if that’s alright…”

“I… guess so…” Cyril said softly, the rather passive answer was all he could do to keep himself from just breaking down, as he realized with silent mortification that he actually was tearing up a little. He’d never expected such tender acknowledgment of the things he’d gone through, let alone finding out that someone so high up could actually _ relate _to someone like him. 

“Well, then. I’ll take you to your room. You need your rest, after all.” Rhea said, out of not just genuine concern but also the hope that Cyril’s tiredness and fullness would keep him from questioning anything… _ odd _he may have noticed during dinner. Luckily, Cyril didn’t protest, only relaxing further into Rhea’s arms when she used a mild healing spell to soothe any remaining discomfort from his dinner.

Cyril was out like a light before Rhea ever actually reached his room.  
  
Rhea, meanwhile, received an earful from Seteth and Flayn as soon as she returned.

Flayn took a deep breath, seemingly collecting herself, before suddenly revealing she was actually just gearing up for a shout. “Fucking _ seriously, _Rhea?!” Flayn cried, abandoning her typically polite and ‘incognito’ style of speech.

“Normally, I’d tell you to watch your language, but... you know what? I agree with your sentiment too much to stop you. Rhea, this is _ ridiculous.” _Seteth chided.

“Come on, you two! I-I can do this! He didn’t find out, right? And I’m helping him feel better!” Rhea nervously replied.  
  
“How much better will he feel when you open your big mouth and tell him you’re a dragon, I wonder…” Seteth dryly replied.

“Now now, you two, I-I know we had some close calls, but I promise he won’t find out! I-I just think, he needs guidance, and-” Rhea started.

“A dragon about as scatterbrained as they come is the best one to give it? We’ve got enough to deal with keeping this whole harebrained religion going, we don’t need you trying to pick up another son!” Seteth responded.

“Easy for you to say. _ You _ still have real family left,” Rhea said, a low growl to her tone. Seteth immediately went silent as Flayn quickly put a hand to her mouth, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself-” Seteth started, but Rhea calmed just as quickly as the flash of anger came.

“No, I shouldn’t have gone there. That was wrong of me, and I apologize. I just… he’s such a sweet boy. He deserves a good life, doesn’t he?” Rhea asked, as she gave both Seteth and Flayn her trademark Look. The same pouty, pathetic, puppy-dog Look that had convinced them both to put up with her for centuries on end, no matter how infuriating her forgetfulness, her sentimentality, her paranoia, all her ridiculous plans and terrible lying… 

But still, they could never abandon her.

* * *

With that, for the next three months, Cyril fell into a strange but pleasant rhythm. He ate the majority of his meals with Rhea, managing to steadily adapt to the weirdly huge portions of meat served along with a smattering of unusual herbs and berries. He didn’t complain, especially since it seemed like Rhea knew what she was talking about after all. He was filling out more, and he was rapidly getting stronger. 

Cyril’s room had been incredibly simple and bare-bones at first, basically nothing but a place to sleep, but things about it steadily changed. A fresh coat of forest green paint, a softer bed, more pillows, a rug, a desk, some shelves, plenty of new clothes, and a variety of small gifts from Rhea and Flayn… even Seteth or Shamir, more rarely. It was nice. Made him feel more at home.

He'd expected that Rhea would usually be too busy for him, but she actually seemed to make a surprisingly large amount of time for him, telling him stories and showing him various things... Sure, she was undeniably still a very strange woman, and he never would've guessed she knew half the things she did, nor could he even fathom how and when she learned them in the first place, but he genuinely enjoyed every moment. Beyond that, he often spent his spare time with Flayn… or Flayn would come find him and keep him company in the midst of his chores, even though he continually insisted he didn’t want help with them. Still, he didn’t mind her company. She was actually a lot of fun to be around, and she seemed to share Rhea's penchant for knowing all sorts of strange but cool things he wouldn’t have ever expected from her.  
  
Then, upon Cyril’s repeated insistence that he wanted to be useful in more ways, Rhea had even let him start training in bow usage with a knight named Shamir, and he frequently enjoyed hunting trips with her, off in the forests surrounding the monastery.

Of course, spending so much time around Cyril, Shamir definitely began to notice that something was… _ odd. _

Cyril made most kills with his bow, just as Shamir showed him, but Shamir noted that he was quite good at tracking things, and had a surprisingly good sense of smell to boot. There were even times where he was feeling particularly confident and managed to get a catch by just running something down and killing it bare-handed. She would’ve been content to believe that it was simply some kind of odd Almyran hunting tactic, but nothing could’ve fully prepared her for the truth. Once he took down an adult male elk by himself, somehow subduing it and snapping the neck with nothing but brute force, she was expecting to hear about some deranged Almyran tutor putting him through some kind of grueling, inscrutable training... only for the boy to just cheerfully turn to her, chest heaving with exertion and exhilaration, and then proudly tell her that _ Flayn and Rhea _taught him how to do it.

What the fuck.

No, really,_ what the _ ** _actual fresh fuck._ **

Shamir had known for quite some time that Rhea was… a lovely woman, but _ undeniably _ odd. But the fact that she apparently knew how to do something like _ that _ was difficult to wrap her head around. Flayn even more so. The girl seemed about as, well, _ girly _as they came.

With that, Shamir promptly decided to have a talk with Rhea.

It really wasn’t exactly what she expected.

“Oh, Cyril brought down something that large already? My, he learns fast…” Rhea responded, standing as serene and unconcerned as ever.  
  
“But… with his bare hands…” Shamir responded.

“Such skill! I do admire his work ethic!” Rhea responded with a genuine smile.  
  
Seemingly out of nowhere, Seteth covertly slipped his way into the conversation as well, silently listening to make sure Rhea didn’t, well… _ be herself _too freely.

“This doesn’t… alarm you? He said he learned it from you and Flayn…” Shamir said. That finally seemed to give Rhea pause.

“O-oh, well, it’s… it’s just… it’s not like we know such things for any unusual reasons! You see, there’s a perfectly logical explanation, one that I have definitely already thought of and will definitely not have been made up on the spot to encourage your silence on the matter!”

Shamir just narrowed her eyes slightly. If Rhea weren’t so distressingly gorgeous, she probably would’ve been far more suspicious, but… she chalked it down to just Rhea being odd. She figured anyone would have a somewhat paranoid manner of speech after the constant vigilance that came with her position. At least the stress didn’t seem to affect her lovely face, or trouble that luscious hair too heavily….  
  
Shamir grit her teeth and told herself to focus. Now was not the time! She had questions to be asking!  
  
“And how is Cyril even strong enough to pull things like this off? He's only 14, and he’s only been here for about four months. If I remember correctly, the kid was a total shrimp when he got here.”  
  
“Oh, I’ve been taking extra care to make sure he gets lots and lots of nutrients!” Rhea said cheerily. Shamir would suppose that explained why the kid seemed to have developed a practically bottomless appetite. He must’ve become accustomed to however Rhea was feeding him… even though she still failed to understand how he wasn’t just getting fat. Speaking of which…  
  
“And what exactly would those nutrients be?” Shamir asked, putting her hands to her hips and looking intensely into Rhea’s eyes…. Her beautiful, perfect- No, damnit, she was trying to be assertive, not spellbound!  
  
“O-oh, you know…. Lots of perfectly normal meat from a variety of animals, some special herbs and berries that definitely do not have any mystical properties… and of course, I give everything my blessing, and plenty of love, which does not in any way mean that I literally use any secret lost arts to fortify his meals!” Rhea said, forcing her expression to remain as serene as ever. Again, Shamir would’ve normally been far more suspicious, but the gentleness of Rhea’s eyes and her subtle but wonderful smile made it rather difficult to think straight, so she just felt sort of sorry for her strange compulsion to over-explain herself.

“I see. Sorry to bother you then, Lady Rhea.”  
  
“No apology is needed. I enjoy speaking with you,” Rhea said, with a softness and warmth that caused Shamir’s heart to flutter oddly before she turned her head and walked away with haste, hoping Rhea didn’t catch the redness in her face.  
  
“Thank goodness. She’s so attracted to you she can’t even see through your pathetically flimsy explanations,” Seteth said with a sigh, once Shamir was out of earshot.  
  
“Yes, it’s very- Wait, I'm sorry, she’s _ what?!” _Rhea asked, suddenly whipping her head towards Seteth.

Seteth merely gave a long-suffering sigh. “My, you really_ are_ clueless, aren’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I’m not actually sure if this is weird and funny or just weird and stupid, but y’know what, part of Fire Emblem’s charm is that it’s a little weird and stupid sometimes, so I guess I can be too. I-it’s not like this is a flimsy excuse or anything,,,
> 
> I originally intended pure comedy, but this actually went and got semi-serious too. Whoop-oops.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeralt and Byleth arrive, and more fuckshit ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually gonna be significantly more serious than the last one, but still, this is,,, mostly a comedy... or at least, like, comedy-adjacent, I guess.

Thanks to Rhea’s typical scatterbrain ways, especially when it came to things concerning her understanding of humans, she forgot about Shamir’s apparent crush on her soon enough, as she usually did with just about anyone who showed a romantic interest in her. It wasn’t that she was intentionally being inconsiderate of their feelings… she was simply… _ like that, _really. She tended to always default to thinking of humans as either children, friendly acquaintances, or nuisances. Seteth wished she’d actually remember more often, if only so she’d stop being so surprised every time it happened.

But in the latest case, he supposed she at least had better reasons than usual for letting it slip her mind.   
  
Not _ only _ had Jeralt arrived, after twenty years of absence, but he’d come along with a young man who was apparently his son, Byleth.   
  
And so, Rhea hatched yet another one of her ridiculous ideas.   
  
The idea that Jeralt should rejoin the Knights Of Seiros was no real surprise… but the fact that she apparently wanted _ Byleth _ , who looked all of _ 20 years old _ , to become a _ teacher _at the academy….

What a _ ridiculous _woman.

* * *

“Have you finally lost your mind?” Seteth asked her, when it was just him, Flayn, and Rhea, in a small study near the audience chamber.  
  
“As much as I think this is a great way to liven the place up… just what in the sweet fuck are you thinking, Rhea?” Flayn asked.   
  
“I, I-just… this is my chance to try and… right some wrongs of mine, I suppose. Fodlan at large is a rather daunting challenge, since I’m sure you’re both well aware of how… _ temperamental _ the political structures are, but if I start here, I’m sure my little Jerrybean will come around...”   
  
“...J-Jerrybean?” Flayn interrupted, trying not to laugh.   
  
“For the love of- Rhea, that man is well over a century old now because of you! You can’t keep treating him like a child!” Seteth chided.   
  
“B-but… he’s a good boy! I’m sure that once Jer-bear gives me a chance to properly apologize for what happened with Byleth, and he knows I mean no harm, things might start to go back to how they were!” Rhea said. “Besides, I want to get to know Byleth better too! I always did fancy the idea of grandchildren…”   
  
“So… you see Cyril as a child, but Byleth as a grandchild?” Flayn asked.   
  
“That is correct!” Rhea said cheerily, as if it were incredibly obvious   
  
“Rhea, that- that’s dumb. Byleth is older than Cyril by about six or seven years. I think that’s kinda a lot, in human terms? I dunno. Probably.” Flayn said.  
  
“Well, he can’t just be my child, he’s already Jerry’s child!”   
  
“Okay, fine, but could you just _ please _ fucking tell me that you won’t use those dumbass nicknames for Jeralt around anyone else?” Flayn asked. “ _ Way _ too suspicious.” 

“I… Promise to try my best?” Rhea sheepishly responded.  
  
Flayn just rolled her eyes. “Coming from you, I guess that’s about as much as we can realistically hope for…”

Seteth begrudgingly agreed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Cyril’s life continued on as usual. He didn’t originally intend for the new professor to interfere with his routine much. They’d probably just say hi to each other every now and again, or something like that…  
  
But that was _ before _ Byleth scared the shit out of him by randomly hanging out from a tree that Cyril happened to be briefly resting under.   
  
“Shit! Professor! What are you doing here?! Why are you in that tree?!” Cyril cried.

“Bird eggs,” Byleth said blankly, as if it were incredibly obvious.

“And you just happened to be using this tree in particular?!” Cyril complained.  
  
“I hurried over because I was worried you’d get them first,” Byleth responded casually, still upside-down. Cyril swore he got the feeling that the professor didn’t blink often enough. “But I see your point. I’ll share if you want, since you were here first.”   
  
“That’s not what I was trying to get at! I just want to know how the heck you even got here without me noticing, especially if I was here first!”   
  
“Stealth.” Byleth said, as if it were so obvious. “I’m good at climbing. Simple as that.” Byleth said with a little upside-down nod, as if that really explained everything Cyril could possibly want to know. How in the world was this man a good teacher by any stretch of the imagination?! 

“Well, c-could you just leave me alone, then? It was awful rude of you to just come out of nowhere while I was minding my own business!” Cyril fussed, starting to feel indignant.  
  
“I didn’t come out of nowhere. I came out of the tree.” Byleth blankly responded.   
  
Cyril’s left eye twitched. “You- you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” Cyril shot back.

“Why would I do that?” Byleth answered, with the barest trace of a frown.

“I… I dunno! Because Lady Rhea liking you so much makes you think you’re better than me, or something?!” Cyril responded, growing more exasperated by the second.

Byleth just seemed genuinely perplexed, frowning ever-so-slightly as he gave Cyril that weird upside-down stare of his.  
  
“Is that what’s worrying you?” Byleth asked, surprisingly gently, taking Cyril off guard. “I don’t know why Rhea made this decision, but this isn’t a competition. A person’s worth isn’t decided by someone else’s opinion of them.”   
  
Cyril blinked. That was… not the answer he was expecting.   
  
“I guess that kinda makes sense… I’ve just gotten so used to always needing to prove myself…” Cyril replied.   
  
“I think others here feel the same way. It is a place where you hone your skills, after all.”   
  
“Well… I dunno. I’m not really like them. I’m just kinda… nobody, I guess…”

“No, I’m obviously talking to a person right now… unless you’re a hallucination. You’re not a hallucination, right? I did eat some wild plants, although I was sure I knew what kinds… Maybe I made a mistake after all. Or is it because I’ve been upside down for so long?” Byleth wondered aloud.  
  
Cyril chuckled in spite of himself, the unconventional response giving him something to focus on besides his own doubts. “I didn’t mean it like that, just… the students and I aren’t on the same level. I’m just a broke Almyran orphan, and they’re all these really important, talented people…”   
  
“Who’s saying you aren’t important or talented?”   
  
“Well, no one right now, but-” Cyril paused and looked down, realizing Byleth was still practically a stranger. And hanging out of a tree, for that matter.

“But?” Byleth responded, looking at him expectantly. Cyril tensed for a moment, his throat seeming to tighten all on its own… but just when he tried to answer, Byleth continued. “Well, if it’s hard to say, that’s alright. Still, have you thought about trying to talk to the students more often? It may help you realize you have more in common.”

“I dunno… I’m busy pretty often.”  
  
“You’re not busy right now.” Byleth blankly replied.   
Cyril tensed, unsure of what exactly Byleth was implying beyond what he’d literally said. His tone was so blank that he very well could’ve only meant what he said, but then there was the implication that he thought Cyril was just making excuses… and from there, the implication that he thought Cyril was a coward, or a weakling, or a liar, or-   
  
Cyril looked down and took a deep breath, trying his best not to jump to conclusions and start arguing with some guy in a tree… especially with the terrifying thought that Byleth might be able to get him in trouble with Lady Rhea, and then she’d be upset, and then she wouldn’t like him anymore, and then- 

When he looked back up, Byleth was gone… but on the ground next to Cyril, there was a small pouch of bird eggs… and if it wasn’t for that, Cyril might’ve doubted that whole bizarre exchange even happened.  
  
Cyril supposed Byleth probably meant the eggs as some odd display of goodwill, but he simply put them back in the tree, hoping the parents wouldn’t be too upset.

It was an odd conversation, but Cyril didn’t really expect anything to come of it until the next day, when Rhea suddenly confronted him in the audience chamber after breakfast, looking worried.

* * *

  
“Cyril…”   
  
“Yes Lady Rhea?” Cyril responded somewhat stiffly, anxiety coiling deep in the pit of his stomach.   
  
“What’s this I hear about you thinking you’re not as good as the students?” Rhea asked.

“Um…” Cyril started, knowing he couldn’t lie but having no idea what to say otherwise. “Well, I mean, that’s not exactly what I meant, I just feel like… people look down on me, sometimes… so I don’t want to be treated like an outsider.”  
  
“Humans can be cruel and prideful creatures, always remember that. Anyone looking down on you is merely insecure and disrespectful. Their opinions are not worth your time. Moreover, Cyril… _ have any students been rude to you?” _Rhea asked, her tone taking on a venomous hiss wholly unlike her usual self.

“N-no, I swear, it’s just… from how things used to be… before I came here,” Cyril explained.

“Before?” Rhea asked, calming with remarkable speed.

“Well, first off, I was in the Almyran army for a while… I didn’t really have a choice, since I was in an orphanage for a little bit, but they were poor and we needed more numbers to fight, so they just pawned a bunch of us off onto the army… and… yeah. Since they needed numbers so bad… once you’re there, you’re basically just another number. Especially if you’re just some weak kid. I wasn’t that fast or strong, and I wasn’t even as big as some of the other kids my age, so they were especially disappointed when they saw me…”

A look of bloodlust flashed in Rhea’s eyes for a moment, and Cyril found himself perturbed by how amazingly realistic her slit pupil illusion was. Still, she took a deep breath and stilled her bubbling rage, quelled the images of ancient atrocities flickering through her mind. “Well, you’re not just a number to me, dear. Nor are you a weak child by any means. You have exceptional strength of mind to have come this far. I admire that. I’ve met many who couldn’t bear their burdens nearly as well.”  
  
Cyril’s breath hitched as something caught in his throat. It was such wonderful praise, so why did he…

Why was he so sad?

His bottom lip trembled. He’d just been praised, so why- so why was he already about to prove Lady Rhea wrong right after she’d said something so kind?

Why couldn’t he just be grateful?

“T-thank you…” Cyril said, hating how his voice trembled while he did, which only made the lump in his throat feel even worse.

Rhea gave a soft smile and hugged him close. It was tender, gentle, like she was afraid of breaking him.

It felt as if something had broken anyway.

Cyril sobbed against Rhea’s body, feeling almost as if he were somehow possessed. He desperately wanted to stop crying, desperately wanted not to embarrass himself, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry… I’m _ sorry…” _ Cyril choked out, balling his fists against Rhea’s clothing. 

“I’m sorry too… You didn’t deserve any of that…” Rhea softly replied, gently stroking his back. “I should have done more…”

“But…” Cyril started, managing to just barely control his crying enough to get it out. “It’s not… it’s not your fault… Just because you’re in charge of so many things doesn’t mean you can stop everyone from being bad… Bad people will always try to pick on weak people… that’s just how the world is." Cyril said.

Deep in Rhea’s chest, there was a horrible sinking feeling. “You don’t… you don’t blame me?”  
  
“Why would I?” Cyril quietly responded. “Even with just the people in Fodlan… if you made a law telling everyone they can’t be mean to Almyrans, it’s not like they’d automatically listen…”

“Of course... But just know, those people are not following the church’s teachings.”  
  
“About that…” Cyril started, swallowing thickly as he tried his best to prevent a second round of crying. “If… if the goddess is watching over everyone, then…” Cyril trailed off, immediately wishing he hadn’t said anything. Surely, Rhea wouldn’t like that he would question something she believed in so intensely. Surely, he was being disrespectful, ungrateful, unworthy of-

Surprisingly, Rhea responded, as patiently as ever.

“Unfortunately, although the Goddess does try her best to protect us, the Goddess cannot decide what people will do, or how people feel. Just as I cannot force everyone to respect Almyrans. She decided that the ability to do such, even if only for emergencies, would infringe upon the rights of mortals… and of course, it says so in the scripture! I-it’s not like I was _ there _ or anything…” Rhea said, sounding oddly nervous on the last part. 

Cyril, having gotten used to her odd tendency to clarify outlandish things that didn’t really need to be clarified, just shrugged it off with a slight chuckle, having come to find it endearing instead.

“...But, if she didn’t necessarily _ force _ them, and just sort of… you know, found some kind of way to _ convince _them to stop before they could go any further…” Cyril started.

“The Goddess sees all branches of fate, and sometimes, perhaps even often… fate is unfair. Fate itself has no inherent morality. Its rules do not conform to good and evil. The sequence of events is fickle, and all things are deeply interconnected, even when they do not seem to be,” Rhea explained. “Sometimes, in changing or diverting events, the outcome will be good in the moment, perhaps even for quite some time after… But something even worse will follow. And when this combines with how the Goddess refuses to infringe upon the will of mortals, further limiting the paths that can be taken…”

“There are things she just can’t stop from happening?” Cyril quietly responded.

“Now you understand,” Rhea softly confirmed. “It is alright to feel that what happened was unfair, or unjust. It is alright to be angry and upset. But do not lose hope. This is why the Goddess needs you… Not all is lost. The more righteous people there are, the more good there can be in the world. Thus, she will have a better path to follow.”  
  
“The Goddess… needs me?” Cyril asked.

“Yes. And so do I,” Rhea said, gently combing fingers through Cyril's hair. “And we do not need you as a number, or a pawn, or a warm body. We need you because you are Cyril. Because you are special, and because you can spread goodness in this world.”

Once again, Cyril felt the bizarre urge to cry in spite of hearing exactly the kind of thing he’d always wanted to hear.  
  
“I… but… what exactly about me _ is _ special?” Cyril asked, voice small. “I… I’ve done a lot of bad stuff… and I can’t even read… and I used to barely get fed ‘cause I wasn’t good enough for more rations… and I know I probably shouldn’t say this next thing, but… sometimes I feel like my parents didn’t even like me… We were pretty much broke, so I was probably just another mouth to feed…”   
  
“You are most certainly special. You may think it weak of you to cry, but it is merely a form of release. What you have to do to survive does not reflect who you truly are… and it was not fair of anyone to mistreat you solely because they felt you weren’t useful enough. Being upset about something like that is only natural,” Rhea replied, still holding Cyril close. On one hand, he never wanted to leave her side. On the other hand, he felt a pitiful shame gripping his heart, as if punishment for believing he had the right to be so close to her at all.

Cyril couldn’t help but cry for a while longer.  
  
Seteth came in a short while later, believing himself to be moving relatively carefully and quietly, only for Cyril to somehow pick up on his presence and immediately wrench himself away from Rhea out of shame over being “caught”, but what had been happening was obvious regardless.

If Seteth had harbored any lingering concerns about whether or not such an arrangement was really worth it, seeing Cyril desperately struggle to wipe his tears away and act like everything was fine was enough to dispel them in an instant. Dangerous secrets or not, the boy needed them after all.

Rhea just smiled up at Seteth for a moment before looking down at Cyril again. “It’s alright. We’ll arrange a way for you to learn reading and writing. And we’ll make up for all the missed meals with even more food!”

Cyril blanched at that, remembering how much of a struggle it’d already been to adapt to Rhea’s unusual portion sizes. “I’m fine on that last part! But… thank you… for um… caring about me, and stuff...”

Rhea gave a small, rueful smile. It was nice to be a comfort to him… besides the fact that it was sort of all her fault in the first place…

Now, if she could just get her sweet little Jerrybean to come around too...

Rhea stared back down at Cyril, realizing that he must be getting along with Byleth if the older boy was able to come tell her that Cyril was struggling... and by extension, Byleth was close with Jeralt...  
  
So, if Cyril could get closer to Jeralt too... Then maybe, just maybe...  
  
Rhea's eyes sparkled in a way Seteth knew all too well, causing him to bite back the urge to groan aloud. 

She had an Idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, basically, I’m just gonna clear this up because if you’ve gotten this far you already know or just don’t care about spoilers: Rhea already realized that her excessive desperation to get Sothis back was wrong.
> 
> Tfw you keep including serious emotional shit when you swear this was just gonna be a comedy,,, b-but it’s not my fault,,, it’s because intsys gave this boy a fucked up past but only rarely lets him fully express and process his feelings on the matter,,,
> 
> And I might be wrong, but I sorta get the vibe that Cyril wasn’t close to his real parents. Of course, even if I am wrong, I prefer the idea that he wasn’t anyway, so that’s what I’m going with. I feel like it’s a little more unique than the alternative.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild title change because I keep mis-remembering the name of my own damn fic, but then I realized that I Am The God Of My Own Fic and can just change it to what I keep thinking it is.

Rhea’s plans started simply enough. Cyril was instructed to deliver a package to Byleth, from Rhea. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but his nose had grown more keen since coming to the monastery. He could clearly smell raw meat, and even detect that it was probably bird meat of some kind, which didn’t seem as odd to him as it should’ve. He was well under the impression that raw or very rare meat was a perfectly acceptable gift in Fodlan, even when being formal.   


Byleth seemed pleased, or at least Cyril thought he did. His eyes brightened ever so slightly as he carefully took the package, and he thanked Cyril in a rather flat and quiet but sincere tone.

Byleth sliced the package open with only his nails, performing the action in an incredibly swift and fluid motion. Cyril did note that they grew impressively sharp for a moment, but still shrugged it off. Rhea, Flayn, and Seteth could all do the same thing, and they all insisted it was just a low-level body modification spell.   
  
With that, Byleth reached into the packaging and pulled out a skinned but raw pheasant, causing the tiny flicker of glee in his eyes to get just slightly bigger before he casually grabbed a leg and began gnawing at it with no further preparation. Cyril just smiled, happy he seemed to like his gift.   
  
Off in the distance, some boy with short, light-blue hair was pointing and screaming “Professor?!” for whatever reason. Weird. Didn’t he know it wasn’t polite to point?   
  
Cyril walked off, figuring he had better things to do. The professor didn’t seem too offended anyway.

Next, Cyril went up to Jeralt’s office, another neatly packaged pheasant in tow. Not only did it seem significantly heavier than the last, it came with a note.

Jeralt’s reaction was significantly different, as he started out seeming polite and rather surprised, only for his face to fall when Cyril told him the package was from Rhea. Jeralt’s shoulders slumped as he sighed and roughly took the package into his own large, calloused hands, then started reading the attached parchment to himself.   
  
“ _ Dearest Jerrybean, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I got you your favorite kind of pheasant! Biggest one I could find, too! Just like when you were younger! When you’re done enjoying it, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you in private. You know, about that teensy weensy little... 'medical issue' your son has? You know the one. I know you’re probably still upset about that, but I swear I can explain if you just give me a chance! And you know I’m terribly sorry, but it’s just not in proper form to rely solely on letters to apologize, so please come talk to me in person, okay? Maybe we can talk it over with a hunting trip? Like old times? Please? Or maybe we can have a picnic! Or go birdwatching! Or take a nice walk! Or go horseback riding! Or play chess! Anything! Just please come talk to me! I’m really sorry, I promise! But of course, I only make these suggestions because I care about you! I am by no means growing increasingly desperate by the hour, so don’t worry about that, haha! _

_ Love, Mom <3” _ _   
_ _   
_ Jeralt’s eye twitched.   
  
“Who does she think she is?!” Jeralt cried. “Is she mocking me, or what?!”

Cyril flinched away, swearing he saw a flash of suddenly sharpening teeth as the older man shouted, but he hardly had time to process it as the man turned away, speaking more quietly.   
  
“Run along. You did a good job, bringing this to me.”   
  
“Um, alright… Is there anything else I can-” Cyril started, quietly hoping he’d be able to figure out what about the letter had Jeralt so upset.   
  
“Run. Along.” Jeralt repeated, not necessarily more loudly, but with a chilling finality that had Cyril quickly scurrying away.

Cyril reported back to the audience chamber soon enough, begrudgingly admitting that Jeralt didn’t take the gift or letter well. It… weirdly felt like it was Cyril’s fault, somehow. He should’ve been more polite, more flattering, more unobtrusive, more professional, represented Lady Rhea better. Then Jeralt would’ve been more accepting.

Maybe he thought it was insulting, that Lady Rhea would use some dirty Almyran to send things to someone as strong and renowned as him.   
  
Maybe he’d tell Rhea that.   
  
Maybe Rhea would realize she was too good to be associated with some grimy little Almyran boy.   
  
Maybe she’d realize she didn’t have any reason to be nice to him, realize that he was too beneath her, too ugly and useless, to bother with such things.   
  
Maybe she wouldn’t need him at all anymore.   
  
Cyril quickly opened his mouth to apologize, but Rhea silently put up a hand to quiet him.   
  
“No, no, it’s alright. I couldn’t expect poor Jerrybean to come around this quickly, after all… I really upset him… B-but, of course, it’s a relatively normal sort of upset! It’s not like I had to kill his wife and make his son some kind of Frankenstinian affront against nature! It’s not like I’m constantly consumed by unending guilt over it but can’t ever undo it or else Byleth would die! And it’s definitely not like the term ‘Frankenstinian’ is from some secret bygone era of lost culture and technology or anything like that, or that they’re the whole reason this whole awful mess ever even needed to happen... hahahaha… haha… ha…” Rhea replied, going from calm to highly defensive and then attempting to return to calm, but trembling in place with an obviously forced smile.   
  
“...Lady Rhea?” Cyril asked, frowning. “Are you alright?”   
  
Rhea attempted to answer, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath.   
  
What came out next was less of an answer and more of a sob. Rhea immediately covered her mouth, but Cyril heard it regardless.   
  
Immediately, he rushed forward to comfort her, even as he struggled to gauge how tightly he should hug her. Should he have asked permission first? Did she want such lowly, dirty hands invading her space while she was at her most vulnerable?   
  
Before he could think any further, Rhea tightly hugged back.   
  
“Cyril…” Rhea said. “T-thank you. At least you’re here. You’re such a good boy, do you know that? A-and… do you… do you know… do you know that I love you?” Rhea asked, immediately making Cyril’s blood run cold as a lump grew in his throat. “Just as much as I love my little Jerry, I love you.”   
  
It should’ve made him so, so happy to hear it, it was exactly the kind of thing he’d been hoping to hear all along, but-    
  
But-   
  
_ But- _ _   
_ _   
_ Cyril could still see it. Still hear it. Still feel it.   
  
That hot summer day on a dusty Almyran prarie…   
  
The sweat running down his neck.   
  
The blood, literally and figuratively, on his hands.   
  
The sword too large for him, jammed deep into a older man’s body in a terrified, haphazard sort of desperation, using all the strength Cyril had been able to muster.   
  
The other man, a young man, lying prone, having already been grievously injured by the other, just moments before Cyril had reached them.   
  
“There’s a good man, Cyril.” the man had wheezed, with at least one of his lungs collapsed. Cyril kneeled next to him, all out of vulneraries and all out of tears. All that was left was a dull, ringing shock. His voice had sounded so small, such a stark reminder that this man was hardly a man yet at all.   
  
“ _ I.. I love you… be good.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ Those had been his last words.   
  
Cyril snapped back to the present.   
  
Immediately, Lady Rhea’s presence, her touch, even her scent… it was all unbearable. Completely unbearable.   
  
And so, Cyril wrenched himself free of her grasp, and he ran.   
  
He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was running, or where.   
  
But run he did.   
  
Back in the audience chamber, Seteth soon came across Rhea, slumped over and trembling, and was at her side in an instant.   
  
“Rhea… What happened?” Seteth asked.   
  
A deep, trembling sigh. A longing glance upwards. A pause. “I ruined everything. As usual.”   


* * *

Some time later, Cyril came to a slow stop just about on the other side of the monastery, near the greenhouse and fishing pond. Luckily, not many other people seemed to be around, except...

Cyril’s heart sank as he spotted Flayn, just on the other side of the pond.

Of course _Flayn _would be there, thanks to her undying love of fish.   
  
She came over all too quickly, and Cyril knew there was no point in trying to avoid her, so he simply turned his back to her, hoping that would be enough for her to get the message.  
  
“Cyril? Cyril, what’s wrong?” Flayn asked gently. Cyril had known all along she wouldn’t get the message. And so, he steeled himself to respond.  
  
A deep, trembling sigh. A longing glance upwards. A pause. “I ruined everything. As usual.”  
  
“What do you mean, ‘as usual’? You do such wonderful work around here, I can’t imagine that whatever you’ve done is truly that bad. I’m sure there’s a way to fix it…” Flayn said. “If you tell me what it is, I’ll help you however I can.”  
  
“Well, Rhea got upset over Jeralt… so I went to comfort her… and then she said she… then she said she loved me… s-so, I just… for some reason, I just… ran away.” Cyril said, still choking back tears as he spoke. “I-I don’t even know _why. _She needed help and I just… ran. I’m such a _coward, _and I don’t even know _why.”_

“...You ran because you know how much love can hurt.” Flayn stated simply. Cyril whipped around at that, stunned that Flayn had almost immediately grasped such a large component of it. But still… Cyril wished he could just carve his brain up with an axe, cutting off all the  _ stupid  _ parts and only leaving what Lady Rhea needed.

It was weird of him to be so hung up on Lady Rhea thinking he was special. On Lady Rhea…  _ loving  _ him. She was basically just his boss. His boss who happened to eat meals with him whenever possible. And give him gifts. And say nice things to him. And pack lunches for him if he was going to be busy. And ruffle his hair. And tell him stories. And sometimes tuck him in at night.

Cyril felt heat rise to his face for a moment as he realized that all of that stuff was suspiciously un-bosslike, but… surely, Lady Rhea was just very kind.

She’d probably just figured she’d be nice to him for a while to make sure he’d be completely loyal and used to everything, then she’d probably start pulling away... especially since she’d probably hire new servant boys eventually…

“It’s just… what if she decides she wants to take it all back?” Cyril asked. “What if she’s lying…”   
  
“Do you really have so little faith in Lady Rhea?” Flayn asked. Her voice was gentle, but Cyril felt still felt like he’d been hit with a sledgehammer.   
  
Cyril’s blood ran cold as more tears pricked up. “N-no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… I don’t understand why she likes me so much…”   
  
“Lady Rhea may be a little odd and hard to understand at times, that much is true, but she’s still a wise and wonderful woman. That’s how she can pick out the good qualities in others so well. So, if Lady Rhea likes you, you definitely deserve it,” Flayn said, with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry for the way I put it, implying that your distrust of Rhea is malicious in nature… If anything, it’s more along the lines of a distrust in yourself. Regardless… you must understand that it isn’t true, first and foremost.”   
  
“Wh-what if… what if she really means it, but then something happens to her, and I can’t save her?” Cyril asked.   


Flayn gave a deep sigh, sounding remarkably weary for someone so small. “...I can’t say that’s impossible… But I  _ can  _ say that you’ll never be alone in protecting her. I think all of us want to protect Lady Rhea very much, so she should continue to be safe for a very long time,” Flayn said.

Cyril didn’t really know what to say.   
  
“Oh, we should take a nice walk together!” Flayn suggested. “Maybe that will help you get everything off your chest!” Flayn suggested. Cyril just nodded somewhat stiffly, tensing when Flayn grabbed him by the hand. It took everything he had just to resist pulling away, to ignore the little demon on his shoulder telling him that hurting Lady Rhea’s feelings made him too disgusting to be touched.

Flayn still felt the brief jerk, saw the conflicted look on his face.   
  
“I can let go, if you want…” Flayn said quietly. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”   
  
“Don’t let go,” Cyril quietly responded, as badly as the little demon wanted him to say otherwise.   
  
“Very well,” Flayn said, smiling softly as they steadily began to walk together.   
  
To Cyril, it simultaneously felt like forever and not nearly long enough.   
  
But by the end, he supposed he did feel a little better.  
  
By the next day, Cyril was standing before Rhea in the audience chamber yet again, once again tense and queasy as he forced himself to look her in the eye. He couldn’t help but read every scrap of body language he could, trying to see what exactly she was thinking, or how she was feeling. Honestly, he could swear she looked uncomfortable in her own right. Her normal perfect poise was strained more than usual, and her eyes were especially downcast.   
  
“Lady Rhea…” Cyril said, quickly taking a knee in deference. “I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you,”   
  
“Cyril, please stand. Although I was upset, it was not because I was disappointed with you. I was only worried about you. And disappointed in myself,” Rhea somberly explained.

Cyril obeyed immediately, although he couldn’t help but be surprised.   
  
“I know you… apparently, were a bit uncomfortable… with what I said… but I just want you to know, I absolutely meant it,” Rhea said softly.   
  
“I know. I just… it’s not your fault I ran away. It’s not that I didn’t want to hear it. I just… it caught me off guard,” Cyril said, feeling that it was likely the understatement of the year, if not the century.   
  
“I understand. But at the same time, I should not have burdened you with… seeing me act like that…” Rhea replied.    
  
“No, it’s alright! Really! Everyone is sad sometimes!” Cyril immediately responded.   
  
Rhea just gave him a bittersweet sort of look before continuing. “Regardless… I’d like to tell you of a new thing I’ve thought of having you do.”   
  
“Of course! Anything for you!” Cyril replied.   
  
“I’d like you to join the Golden Deer class, beginning next week. Your other duties will be greatly reduced. Besides just doing this to let you focus on your studies, I’d like you to have time to make friends as well. I was hoping that perhaps you’d make friends with the monks and servants around here… but it seems you’re always working so hard,” Rhea said.   
  
“I…” Cyril forced a smile even though he was silently screaming on the inside, but the desperation to make her happy won out. “I think, it’s an um, great idea, it’s just… you remember that I um… don’t really know how to read, right? N-not that you’re forgetful or anything!” Cyril started.   
  
“I already spoke with Professor Byleth about that! He’ll work at your level when it comes to that. And we’ll get you extra help with figuring it all out. I believe in you! It will be a wonderful way to build self-confidence! That way, you can prove you’re just as good as them! And there is no need to be worried about how others will react. I  _ will not  _ tolerate you being mistreated under any circumstances.”   
  
“Okay,” Cyril said, a little less enthusiastically than he’d planned to.   
  
“If you struggle with it, don’t worry. I will not be upset with you. I only want you to make an effort. The very fact you’re willing to attempt this at all fills me with joy!” Rhea said, as Cyril’s eyes widened with a rush of elation. The concern he’d ruin it, or humiliate himself and by extension make Rhea look bad was briefly dispelled. “Finally, but first and foremost… this is for your own benefit. Meaning that… you need not seek to do it only to please me. What areas you want to focus on and who you interact with are entirely your own decisions to make.” Rhea explained.   
  
Rhea did feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that she wasn’t necessarily lying, but there was a level of ulterior motivation to what she was doing. Getting him to become closer with Byleth could in turn help garner trust from Jeralt… But what she wanted would be more like a side effect than anything. She wouldn’t try forcing it to happen, it would just be a reasonably likely outcome of the situation. And if it didn’t work, she supposed she could just find some other way.

There was still a chance it could all backfire… Perhaps the students would be too mean to Cyril. Perhaps Byleth wouldn’t treat him properly. Perhaps people would resent Cyril for being a student, thinking he didn’t really deserve it. Perhaps Jeralt would figure out what she was trying to do and pull away even more.   
  
But Rhea supposed she’d just have to wait and see.

* * *

Cyril felt like some kind of imposter when his very own custom-fitted Academy uniforms were added to his wardrobe, no matter how many times Rhea, Seteth, or Flayn told him that he looked handsome. He had been asked if he wanted any modifications to them to make him feel more comfortable with them, but he didn't know what to say, so he just left it as the default.  
  
It definitely increased the amount of stares he got on the way to class, too. He did his best to ignore that.   
  
But he supposed that in the grand scheme of things, it could honestly be worse.   
  
Cyril got the feeling that everyone had been coached on how to act or something, because his introduction to the class was surprisingly warm, and everyone greeted him in unison.   
  
Claude even went out of his way to make sure Cyril sat close to him, specifically so Cyril could ask questions if need be.   
  
Things went somewhat stressfully, but overall surprisingly well until the beginning of the Blue Sea Moon.

Being actually in a class as a student was something he was halfway convinced was probably not even supposed to be entirely legal, as he was even younger than Lysithea, and she was way smarter and more special than him… But it was honestly kind of nice. It made it easier to improve at archery    
  
But since he’d developed such atypical physical strength for his age and size, everyone just assumed that Rhea had deemed him a prodigy and enrolled him for that reason… wholly unaware that Rhea was the only reason why he was like that in the first place.   
  
Cyril quickly realized that oddly enough, it meant that he actually  _ was  _ special in a positive way among the other classmates. He just hadn’t really understood that it was actually such a big deal beforehand.    
  
After his past involved being constantly belittled and always just managing to scrape by, and after spending so much time in the company of Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn, he’d just figured that he’d only gotten so much stronger because he’d been so far behind to start with. Surely, any boy would get way stronger after suddenly going from food insecurity to huge, high-protein meals. Shamir had repeatedly claimed the contrary, but he’d always sort of assumed she was just being nice, in her own reserved way.

The fact that people actually thought there was something special about him, in a good way, definitely threw him for a loop… even if it didn’t quite calm down the associated worry that it was the only reason they were even tolerating him.   
  
Still, there were some where he noticed the feeling wasn’t as intense around them…   
  
Claude was who first came to mind, in spite of being the house leader. He always seemed to be making sure Cyril felt included, giving him advice, trying to make him laugh, helping him with assignments. It was true that Cyril often couldn’t entirely tell what Claude was truly thinking or feeling, as he tended to smooth everything over with a smile, but he could at least generally feel that Claude didn’t appear to look down on him. He did tease him every now and then, but there was no heat to it, no true insult that wasn’t quickly apologized for.

Next was Raphael, who felt surprisingly relatable to Cyril… His stature was a little worrying at first, but his kind and straightforward nature quickly put Cyril at ease. There weren’t really any ‘tricks’ to Raphael, and Cyril couldn’t say he disliked that. Given his passions for eating and lifting, no one else really seemed surprised at how quickly Cyril’s own strength and appetite gained Raphael’s attention.   


It was also nice how much Raphael genuinely seemed to believe in and encourage him… Among others, rumors were already spreading when it came to the possibility that he had some kind of secret or invisible Crest behind his strength. After all, even Cyril couldn’t help but be confused when the opportunity to do formal strength training revealed that he was somehow just as strong as Raphael in spite of the huge size discrepancy. But through it all, Raphael seemed one of the most willing to simply take ‘he’s just that strong’ or ‘it’s just because he works hard’ at face value.

So, Raphael was pretty cool. Besides the Lamb Kabob Incident. But they’d both agreed to never talk about the Lamb Kabob Incident ever again. It was a mistake on both of their parts. A horrible, _horrible_ mistake.

Then there was Byleth himself, who hardly seemed to pay any attention at all to things like race or social standing… He largely seemed like he was on his own planet or something. Being taught by him only made his obvious eccentricities even more obvious. Cyril sometimes wondered if he even truly understood the nuances of it all… but on the other hand, Byleth could be incredibly perceptive when he wanted to be, and he could give surprisingly sound advice when necessary.

Byleth was even surprisingly kind, as evidenced by the flat but careful delivery of most of the advice, and the rather… odd fact that he apparently  _ hadn’t  _ been collecting wild bird eggs for food, but instead carefully raising them into some kind of ‘bird army’, for ‘vital aerial reconnaissance’, setting them all up in an abandoned room that Rhea apparently gave him full permission to use. As strange as it was, he was genuinely gentle with them… and Marianne was apparently second in command when it came to them, a duty she seemed to genuinely enjoy despite her typical extreme meekness. Cyril had hardly ever heard her speak, but she seemed to be able to handle looking after the birds just fine.   
  
But even so, there was one person in particular that he didn’t start getting to know until after the Garland Moon, and after the Golden Deer had ended up having no choice but to fight against Lonato and his troops.

* * *

  
Cyril had insisted he could help, but Byleth put him on a background non-combatant role, helping with supplies and other logistics. He’d wanted to make more of a fuss, until Byleth pointed out that Lady Rhea would be happier with Byleth’s arrangement, as she’d value Cyril’s safety over his combat contributions. He couldn’t really argue with that.

At first, it’d been crazy enough just to hear that Lonato had apparently been involved in some kind of plot against the Church and Lady Rhea… but hearing that he was actually a student’s adoptive father was something else entirely.   
  
And of course, Cyril just *had* to end up coming across Ashe around the beginning of the Blue Sea Moon, sitting forlornly in the cathedral pews.

On one hand, Cyril was a bit nervous to talk to him… maybe it wasn’t really his business. It already felt weird enough to be in the cathedral wearing an Academy uniform and not just being there to clean it. But at the same time…   


As angry and standoffish as he himself had acted when his parents died… he could at least remember wishing someone would have the patience to stick with him anyway.

“Hey, Ashe, um… I’m sorry to hear about what happened with Lonato,” Cyril said, hoping he wasn’t just coming off as annoying. “Y’know, if you just wanna be alone, I get it, but… if you wanna talk about it… I know how it feels…” Cyril said. He was more than a little scared that someone like Ashe wouldn’t want some nosy Almyran poking around in his business, acting like they could actually relate just because they got some ~special exception~ and magically turned into a student out of nowhere… But Lady Rhea did say that spreading goodness was important, and Professor Byleth said he should try talking to the students more...    
  
To Cyril’s surprise, Ashe responded with a simple “You do?” in a relatively calm and quiet voice, and Cyril couldn’t help but notice it was… more relaxing than expected. Perhaps even sort of… pretty? But it was only with the rush of relief that Cyril fully realized just how much he subconsciously feared a rude or offended reaction.   


“I’ve lost important people too…” Cyril said, as he hurriedly wracked his brain for something tactful to say beyond the honest truth, which was that he’d largely just been forced by circumstance to suck it up and not think about it too hard. He got the feeling that that wasn’t at all the  _ ideal  _ solution. “But if you just hang in there, things won’t be bad forever. I mean, it is true that people don’t come back to life… but other good things will happen, and there will still be other people there for you,” Cyril continued, feeling somewhat nervous. He definitely did  _ not  _ usually do things like this. Ashe probably already knew the surface-level life lessons he was spouting off anyway. He basically just sounded like he was only saying it to  _ look _ like he cared.   
  
“Thanks…” Ashe said, turning away, although his slight frown and half-lidded expression had Cyril worried more than ever. That meant he didn’t do a good job, didn’t it? He had to do something else, but what?!   
  
“Um, well… are ya hungry? Been eating okay?” Cyril asked, quickly reaching for the lunch stored in a modest leather satchel he carried it around in, along with a few tools and other supplies. Lady Rhea always gave him a lot more than he needed anyway.   


“Oh… well, it is true that I haven’t eaten much lately. But really, you don’t have to do that. I don’t have much of an appetite right now anyway...”   
  
“It’s fine, really! Lady Rhea always gives me a ton anyway,” Cyril said. Ashe didn’t really seem to believe him at first, but his eyes steadily widened when the opening of Cyril’s satchel stretched impossibly far and produced a simple lunchbox made of polished wood, bigger than the satchel itself.   
  
“Oh, that’s a funny trick! Showing me a huge basket like that and acting like that’s seriously-”   
  
Cyril opened the basket. Ashe’s eyes immediately bulged. It really  _ was  _ completely full of food. He could already smell meat. “What, do you like, deliver lunch for people or something?”   
  
“It’s all for me. I kept telling her I don’t actually need it all, but she would just get all worried and talk about nutrients and stuff, so I decided to drop it. Now I just use the extra to feed the animals around here. Or I just share it with monks and stable boys and stuff, so it kind of loops back around to being like what you said.” Cyril explained. “There’s a bunch of stuff here, especially if you like meat, so don’t be afraid to ask for some,” he continued, as he started rummaging through it to prove his point.   


“I see… But regardless, you don’t have to do anything, I-” Ashe started.   
  
Cyril produced a thick and impressively meaty sandwich, still plenty warm and juicy thanks to an enchantment put upon the basket. Despite himself, Ashe couldn’t stop his stomach from growling.   
  
“So you  _ are  _ hungry!” Cyril said sharply, frowning slightly at the fact that Ashe lied.   
  
“I… yes, kind of, I just… don’t want to go to the dining hall and risk people giving me that  _ look,  _ you know? That ‘oh, you poor thing’ kind of look, like you’re just completely pathetic? I know they only mean well, I just… I don’t know. I don’t like feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my troubles, or ruining the mood...”   
  
“Well… for one, you’re not a burden, and two, at this point, I’d be  _ more _ worried if ya  _ didn’t _ eat. So, ya might as well.” Cyril said.

Unable to argue with that logic, Ashe simply took the sandwich. “Thanks, really. I appreciate the concern.” Ashe said, before taking his first bite. Cyril felt a flutter of happiness when Ashe’s eyes lit up at the flavor.   
  
“It’s nothing. I know what ya mean about the whole burden thing… I always hate feeling like that.” Cyril replied, as old memories of being beaten and screamed at briefly flashed through his mind. He briefly shut his eyes tight to dispel them. “But, at the same time… if anyone actually makes ya feel bad just for mourning, they’re just some dumb asshole anyway. Don’t listen to ‘em.” Cyril said.    
  
Ashe only nodded, still busy with the sandwich, but his eyes seemed keen and attentive, so Cyril decided he may as well keep talking. He was admittedly still a little worried he’d end up coming off as annoying, but… it did feel a little hypocritical to be so worried he was bothering someone if he’d just told  _ them  _ not to worry that they were bothering people. So, he pushed those concerns aside for the time being.   
  
“Speaking of that, I’m from Almyra… So back over there, I ended up in the army for a little bit, and there was this guy who was real mean to us and would get super mad if you cried, no matter what the reason was. One time a kid got a broken arm, and just got yelled at for not being careful! _ _ So a bunch of us got together and made a plan to sneak rat shit into his food. He didn’t even notice, but he got sick for two whole weeks! Served him right!” Cyril said, with a vindictive laugh. “He was one of those weirdos who likes little girls, too… If anything, we should’ve knocked him out and chopped off his-”   
  
Ashe nearly choked on his sandwich at that last part, the brief bout of coughing sharply interrupting the story. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting story, but... I- I don’t think I’d have the nerve to do things like that…” Ashe said, pausing his meal. “But more importantly… not to be rude, but… aren’t you too young for something like that?”

“I’m mature enough to fight. I’m not just some little kid,” Cyril replied, somewhat stiffly.   
  
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that no one your age should have to do anything like that, no matter how mature they are.” Ashe said. “Ideally, no one should ever have to fight at all… Especially not someone as kind as you...”  
  
“Well… um, thank you... I guess ya have a point,” Cyril replied, feeling a rush of warmth at the unexpected compliment. “But it wasn’t all bad, I guess… at least it helped me toughen up.”

Another thought on the matter appeared, bubbling up sickly-sweet and wholly unasked for, bringing with it a morbid sense of relief in Cyril’s mind.   
  
_ If his parents hadn’t died, then he wouldn’t have gotten to be with Lady Rhea. _ _   
_ _   
_ He quashed the ugly, giddy little thought in an instant, but it was too late. He’d already thought it.   


Ashe at least had the decency to be sad about his dead father like a normal person.   
  
Meanwhile, Cyril was being some sort of ungrateful freak, even going so far as to feel a twisted happiness over his own parents dying.    
  
...Academy students really were better than him, weren’t they?    
  
“You do seem really brave… joining the Golden Deer, adapting to living in a whole new country… A racist one, at that… But still working hard every day… I admire that,” Ashe said.   
  
Cyril’s brain briefly short circuited, hearing that so soon after he’d just mentally chastised himself.   
  
Ashe… admired him? Did he hear that correctly?   
  
“Say that again, that- y’know, that last part.” Cyril said, internally cringing at how he sounded a little desperate rather than just sounding like he wanted clarification.   
  
“I admire that. You’re kind, focused, devoted, strong… what’s there not to admire?” Ashe asked.   
  
Cyril felt like he was choking, suddenly, as heat rose to his face.   
  
“I- I’m just me. I’m not that great,” Cyril deflected. He’d never expected Ashe to be so…  _ nice  _ to him…   
  
“Sure you are!” Ashe said, with a smile so sweet it practically gave Cyril cavities.   
  
“Th… that’s because you just don’t know me that well,” Cyril replied, feeling weirdly off-balance in the whole conversation. He was all sweaty and stiff, and he felt all giddy and confused and weirdly guilty at the same time…    
  
“You might feel that way… but I’d still like to get to know you better, if that’s alright with you,” Ashe replied with another winning smile, much to Cyril’s horrified elation. On one hand, the whole interaction was technically going way better than he was expecting… on the other hand, if Ashe got what he wanted… what if he started thinking Cyril was right?   
  
_ You won’t know until you try,  _ Cyril’s mind supplied.   
  
“Okay,” Cyril forced himself to say, heart still beating oddly quickly.   


Ashe seemed happy with the answer as the conversation died down to just comfortable silence, and Ashe just focused on finishing his sandwich. In the meantime, Cyril had already eaten, but at least decided that some dessert wouldn’t hurt anything.   


Getting out a large brownie with extra fudge, Cyril attempted to be modest, aware that his appetite had become a lot bigger than his appearance suggested.   
  
He briefly feared that he’d failed by the time he brought out a second, having eaten too quickly or sloppily or some other odd thing that drew Ashe’s attention…

The actual answer was significantly different.   
  
“Are… um… Are there any more of those brownies?” Ashe asked, sounding oddly nervous compared to before. His eyes were wide and fixated heavily on the basket, and Cyril could swear he was trying not to drool.   
  
“Yeah, six of ‘em. You can have some, it’s definitely more than enough for me… especially since animals shouldn’t eat chocolate.” Cyril said, handing Ashe the second brownie instead   
  
Ashe reacted as if he’d received a gift from heaven, eyes practically sparkling with joy as he reverently beheld the dessert.   
  
“Thank you!” Ashe cried. “I’ll be your best friend forever now!” Ashe continued, before blissfully biting into the brownie.   
  
Cyril was pretty sure Ashe was just jokingly exaggerating, but his heartbeat sped up a bit yet again regardless.    
  
Best friends… forever?   
  
The lonely part of him could scream with joy.    
  
The wary part of him was immediately flooded with fear and suspicion, both towards Ashe and towards the future as a whole.   
  
Lady Rhea herself had confirmed that fate was unfair, and that the Goddess couldn’t always protect everyone.   
  
Just like it couldn’t protect people he’d cared about before.   
  
“Uh… okay, I guess?” Cyril replied, intentionally downplaying his feelings. “I haven’t really had friends before…” Cyril lied. Not considering anyone from before a ‘friend’ just made it hurt less to remember that they were gone. Gone forever, and all because he hadn’t been strong enough to do a single thing about it... But then again, in a certain sense, it felt like the truth.   
  
He felt like a different person, with such a different life than before. He got a warm room and a nice bed all to himself, he slept with a full stomach every night, people complimented him more, he didn’t get screamed at whenever he made a mistake, he was learning to read and write and actually fight properly instead of basically just being a glorified distraction to the enemy…   
  
“But earlier, you were talking about the army, and how you and a bunch of other people got together to play that trick on your superior. That sounds kinda like having friends,” Ashe said.   
  
“Well, n-not really… those were more like, just… people you know. ‘Cause you happen to be in the same boat.” Cyril said quietly, looking down.   


“I see. Well, hopefully, you’ll be able to come to think of people here as more than just people you know,” Ashe responded. “I know this must be a lot to get used to, but it’s always good to have friends.”   
  
“Unless they just end up dying…” Cyril grumbled, more to himself than anything, before he could stop himself. As soon as he realized he'd spoken aloud, he quickly looked back up towards Ashe, hoping he hadn’t heard… but he clearly had. He was giving him such a sad look that Cyril could hardly stand it. Cyril felt like he’d maybe actually been doing a good job helping Ashe feel better, but then Cyril just had to go and ruin it for Ashe, didn’t he…   
  
“Treasuring the time you have with people is better than being afraid of the future. Not that it’s not perfectly reasonable to worry about things like that… but if you let it consume you, it hurts more in the long run.” Ashe said. “It’s good to take risks every now and then, as long as you think things through.”   
  
Cyril felt something weird stir in his chest, something that made it suddenly much harder to continue the conversation with any level of composure. It was a little like whenever Lady Rhea was really nice to him. “T-thanks, um… I… I’ll try to remember that, but- uh, I… have stuff to do,” Cyril said, quickly giving Ashe another two brownies before Ashe could protest.

“Alright! Work hard!” Ashe said, as Cyril hurriedly walked away with the lunch basket, still not entirely sure why he was feeling so wound up. He was still stuck on struggling to believe a student had ended up being so nice, even after something so terrible had happened to them...   
  
Cyril spent the rest of that day feeling both oddly happy and oddly tense at the same time, but he figured any further interactions with Ashe would probably be relatively limited.

* * *

  
At least until he somehow ended up at least briefly speaking with Ashe every day afterwards for the next few days, all the way up until he’d emotionally recovered enough that he showed up in the Golden Deer classroom the very next week, being introduced by Professor Eisner. Ashe wondered why exactly the professor also had a small sparrow obediently sitting on his shoulder, but he didn’t elaborate.   
  
“Class, we have a new transfer today,” Byleth said rather flatly, the complete opposite of all the emotions running rampant inside of Cyril, as he just did his best to act natural. “Ashe Ubert will be learning with us from now on. Do not worry, I have ascertained that he is not a mole. Private Peeps has also deemed him suitable.” Byleth said, casually referring to the bird on his shoulder without even an ounce of humor in his tone. Ashe quickly looked around to see if it was supposed to be some kind of joke, but no one seemed at all surprised.   
  
Instead, whispers abounded as students speculated about why someone had decided to transfer so suddenly… or why Byleth ever assumed Ashe was a mole. From what everyone generally understood, Ashe and the professor hadn’t grown particularly close. One could say that even Professor Eisner himself actually looked a little confused by the whole ordeal, although it was hard to say, thanks to his limited range of expression.    
  
Ashe just briefly introduced himself, gave a couple of pleasantries, then scanned the room before happily noticing that a seat right next to Cyril coincidentally happened to be open. With not an ounce of hesitation, he quickly settled into that seat.   
  
Cyril noticed the mild redness on the other boy’s face as he gave his greeting, with a smile so sweet it made Cyril’s stomach feel all weird, but he figured it was just that Ashe was feeling a little flustered on his first day in a new classroom.   
  
“What’s with the professor saying you’re not a mole?” Cyril asked.   
  
“Oh, that’s just because I suppose my desire to transfer was rather sudden… I imagine the professor’s past makes him a bit paranoid. He was worried that I’m here to gain confidential information and report it to the other classes… I don’t think he’s entirely grasped that our competition with other classes is only for fun.”   
  
“Still… why  _ are  _ you here, then?” Cyril asked.   
  
“Oh, well, um…" Ashe started, his blush growing. "I just thought… it'd be nice to spend more time with you… uh… guys. Y-yeah, you guys! That’s because I uh… you know, I think I… I kind of like yyyyy… you know, archery! I like archery!” Ashe said, nodding a couple of times to emphasize his point. “And this house seems more focused on it… so I figured, why not?”

Cyril still chalked the odd behavior up to it being his first day in a new class, on top of the professor accusing him of being a mole.

"Oh, you like archery too? So do I! Maybe we could practice together some time!" Cyril happily replied, causing Ashe's eyes to practically sparkle with excitement.

"That'd be great!" Ashe responded.   


"Yeah! I'm real glad you're here, actually… it makes things a little easier on me," Cyril admitted, as much as it made him a bit nervous to do so… but Ashe was so warm it gave him courage.

"That's good! If you need help with anything, just ask me, alright?" Ashe said.

"Oh, that's fine… wouldn't want to bother you too much," Cyril said.

"No, I insist! I like helping people. Helps me not focus on myself so much," Ashe replied.

"In that case… I'll keep it in mind. Thanks," Cyril said, deciding Ashe sounded sincere enough.   


Meanwhile, Claude was sitting closely enough that he could clearly see the expressions on their faces…

And judging by the dreamy look Ashe was giving Cyril, combined with the modest blush and the general way he held himself...  
  
Claude believed he knew the  _ real _ reason Ashe joined the Golden Deer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen,,, I love Ashe/Felix, Ashe/Dedue, and like four or five other Ashe pairings, but,,, Ashe/Cyril is my funckingn jam. That is my shit. I think it might be a bit of a rarepair, but idc. I Have Unlimited Power Here. 
> 
> But as I’ve said regarding pairings in general, they’re not gonna get together unless I reach post-timeskip. (Especially because… everyone’s kind of a goddamn mess) For now they’re just friends who are lowkey (or not-so-lowkey) having Feelings.
> 
> I know that canonically, Cyril says he hasn't ever really had friends, but… making it so he just said that because all his old friends are dead and he's trying to emotionally distance himself from his past? Spicy.
> 
> Me @ my brain: h-hey, I… I uh, y’know, still want this to be funny sometimes,,, heh,,,
> 
> My brain @ me: Unfortunate. Add This Angst Or I Will Shatter Your Ribs. That Is A Promise.
> 
> Me, sweating: o-okay,,,
> 
> And yeah, this is basically like an alternate version of Golden Deer… with some,,, Other Differences that will be coming along,,,
> 
> HOPEFULLY, Chapter 4 will be cuter and more lighthearted, but considering that I keep letting my mood at any given time heavily impact the tone and my general decision-making process,,, we’ll see.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rhea makes another attempt to reach Jeralt, and Cyril *totally* does not have a crush on Ashe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, the fic will be becoming more romantic, but it's still just 'lighter' stuff like crushes and pining and whatnot, usually intended to be cute/funny.
> 
> Still, as usual, this chapter is actually serious to an extent, just not as bad as chapter 3.

The Blue Sea Moon continued on, relatively smooth beyond the moderate oddity of Flayn’s birthday… Cyril had never heard of a birthday where you never actually mentioned how old you were, but Seteth explained it away as a simple ‘old fashioned’ custom. Meanwhile, Lady Rhea seemed oddly tight-lipped about specifics, especially under Seteth’s scrutiny.    
  
Cyril was confused largely because he’d guess Flayn had turned anywhere from 13 to 16, but she sometimes did and said things that made her seem more like an adult stuck in a childlike body, which would then be followed by things that made it sound like she’d been living under a rock… so really, the jury was out. Flayn was just kind of weird like that, although it was generally at least weird in a good way.

Luckily, Cyril had managed to successfully grow her some forget-me-nots before the deadline, so they made for a good gift. In the end, when Flayn gave him a truly delighted smile and a surprisingly strong hug, he decided that was far more important than knowing exactly how old she was   


For much of the first half of the month, the only other real thing of note was getting tutoring with reading and spelling from Lysithea. Even though she was second-youngest, Cyril was a bit surprised that she was nicer than expected… After all, he’d seen and heard her getting prickly with others, and she typically seemed to spend most of her time studying. Still, he supposed the prickliness wasn’t entirely her fault… It must’ve been just as hard for her to feel like people took her seriously. ...Especially when Claude seemed to enjoy teasing her on purpose.

On the other hand, Cyril suspected half the reason she was nicer with him was that she was just pleased to have someone even younger than her around… and the other reason was that she occasionally received unofficial ‘payments’ for her services in Cyril’s spare desserts. Cyril was starting to suspect that a good chunk of Academy students could actually just be controlled with sweets.

Ashe would often come along too, sympathizing with Cyril. Apparently, he hadn’t known how to read either until Lonato taught him, so he was eager to help. Cyril didn’t mind at all, simply grateful that someone else understood his situation instead of judging him.

Sometime during the second half of the month, the group had gathered around a table in a courtyard, finding that it was too warm and sunny for the library.   
  
Cyril found himself… actually pretty happy. He’d aced a spelling test, the others seemed happy too, and conversation was going nicely…   
  
And that was when a man suddenly went barreling past them at such ridiculous speed that Lysithea and Ashe both gave high pitched shrieks and clung to Cyril like their lives depended on it.

Cyril barely got a good look at the man, but he could’ve sworn it was Captain Jeralt… a suspicion confirmed when a second blur of white and green went past, causing both Ashe and Lysithea to clutch Cyril even tighter, whimpering in terror and in turn causing Cyril to blush a bit… until the blur doubled back, revealing itself to be Lady Rhea.   
  
“Oh, hello Cyril! I see you’re with Ashe and Lysithea too! I’m so glad you’re all getting along! I apologize if any of you were frightened!” Rhea casually said.

“Uh,” Ashe said, quickly letting go of Cyril along with Lysithea as both of them realized what they were doing. “N-not at all!”   
  
“Y-y-yeah, we weren’t s-s-scared! W-we were just, um, protecting Cyril!” Lysithea lied, poorly enough that most people wouldn’t believe it for a second… but Rhea wasn’t most people. “I just needed physical contact to put a ward on him!”   
  
“Oh, you two are so thoughtful! How lovely!” Lady Rhea cheerily replied. The trio started to notice, with varying levels of surprise and unease, that Rhea didn’t actually look or sound tired in the least. Her elaborate outfit was still in mint condition too, not a single part of it out place. She was speaking so casually it was as if she hadn’t moved at all.

“Haha, y-yeah…” Ashe nervously responded.   
  
“Well, I have business to attend to, but it’s quite warm today, so remember to stay hydrated!” Rhea said, before snapping her fingers and summoning up three glasses of water and a full, icy pitcher on the table. Lysithea and Ashe had to fight not to make any more frightened noises, but Cyril was relatively used to such displays.   
  
“Alright, bye now!” Rhea said. Her final act was to quickly kiss Cyril on his forehead before suddenly dashing off at a speed no less than sixty miles per hour, much to the shock of the others. Cyril just looked down at the table, ears going red with mild embarrassment.

* * *

Somewhere, Jeralt tensed as he heard Rhea’s distant approach, along with the sing-song cry of ‘Oh, Jerrykiiinsss~’.   
  
That woman was terrifying.  


Jeralt had been hoping that if he ran fast enough, she’d become too wary to follow, wanting to avoid questions and rumors about how she could possibly move so quickly… But  _ nooo _ , she just  _ had  _ to be desperate enough to flaunt her literally inhuman speed and grace in front of everyone, even in an outfit that clearly wasn’t designed for running in the slightest.

And now  _ he  _ was going to look like the bad guy for running away from the Archbishop. Great. Just great.

And so, Jeralt ran on, doing his best to avoid obvious paths and throw her off his trail.   
  
But she was nothing if not an accomplished hunter. She didn’t lose track of her quarry so easily.   
  
And so, just about the entire monastery was beset by two thundering blurs of motion, one frantically chasing the other down like her life depended on it.   
  
Eventually, Jeralt found brief salvation in a men’s restroom… only to come face to face with his own son.   
  
“Hello, father,” Byleth said over-casually, while in the middle of apparently bathing what looked like a  _ fledgeling eagle  _ in the sink. “Nutter Butter and I were just in the middle of bathtime.”   
  
“Byleth.  _ Please  _ go outside and tell Rhea to stop chasing me,” Jeralt said, trying his best to sound calm as he took deep, heaving breaths.   
  
“Grandma just wants to talk with you, that’s all,” Byleth casually replied. Jeralt felt like he’d finally aged a few more years just by hearing those words leave his son’s mouth.   
  
“She is  _ not  _ your grandmother!” Jeralt cried.   
  
“Really? She made Mom, didn’t she?” Byleth asked, still in a completely over-casual tone. Jeralt’s mouth went dry.   
  
“She… she  _ told you  _ about that?”   
  
“Yes. When she invited me for tea.  _ And  _ let me have raw veal, I may add.” Byleth replied. There were just the tiniest hints of both irritation and smug satisfaction in the last parts of his voice.    
  
“You  _ know  _ how I feel about raw meat, young man!”   
  
“I do what I want,” Byleth replied. His tone was impassive, but the choice of words made things clear. “I think you’re just  _ jealous,”  _ Byleth added on, looking at Jeralt with an almost challenging expression.   
  
“Jealous of  _ what?!  _ That woman… you can’t trust her! She’s absurd!” Jeralt cried.   
  
“She told me you’d say things like that,” Byleth replied. “But Grandma is really trying her hardest, alright?”   
  
“Please stop calling her that,” Jeralt replied.   
  
“No. You’re just upset because I’m getting along with her and you aren’t.” Byleth bluntly stated.   
  
“I- I’m not- I mean, I  _ would  _ be getting along with her just fine, but she- she’s just- what she did- how she’s acting is just-” Jeralt stammered. “ _ She  _ chased me in here!”   
  
“It’s not as if you  _ have  _ to forgive her, but… not bothering to listen to her at all?” Byleth asked. “Blaming her for everything? Avoiding her? Running away from her? It’s not like she’ll attack you.”   
  
“Don’t make me the bad guy here. You don’t know her like I do.”   
  
Byleth’s expression changed just slightly enough to inform Jeralt that he felt like he was being condescended to. “True. But since you’re implying you already know everything, you must not actually need my help,” Byleth said flatly, casually putting Nutter Butter in a small towel and leaving without another word.

“B-Byleth, wait!” Jeralt cried, but it was too late. Byleth had slipped out in record time.   
  
And that was how Jeralt spent a full three hours being ‘trapped’ in a restroom, even though Rhea actually left after about fifteen minutes.

Cyril ended up coming in towards the tail end of his ‘confinement’, feeling exceptionally confused when he was faced with an exceptionally tall, muscular man just moodily huddled in a corner, stealing shifty glances at his surroundings every now and then.   
  
“You. She sent you in here to keep an eye on me, didn’t she?!” Jeralt asked.   
  
“Uh, what are ya talking about?” Cyril asked. He’d just come to take a piss, he really didn’t need-   
  
“Don’t play dumb! Rhea’s out there waiting for me, isn’t she?! Don’t lie to me!”   
  
“Uh, no?” Cyril flatly responded. “Last time I saw her was when she was chasing you earlier. What is this all about, anyway? Is she like… trying to get ya to do some annoying favor, or something?’   
  
“Of course not. She thinks I’m her  _ son,  _ like you… I simply want no part of it.”   
  
“Well… if that’s true, why be so upset with her? Didn’t she treat you nice too? It seems like she still likes ya an awful lot. She even let ya go right back to your old position, like nothing happened.”   
  
“Sure, she was fine before, but… she  _ has  _ to be plotting something now. This is all too convenient. It feels like she’s just waiting for me to put my guard down…”   
  
“And then what? What do you think she’ll do?” Cyril asked, as evenly as he could. It was undoubtedly irritating to listen to someone be so openly disdainful of Lady Rhea, but… it  _ was  _ Jeralt. Lady Rhea would surely want him to be nice.

“I- I don’t know! Something! Like she’ll steal Byleth, or try to brainwash us, or do experiments on us!” Jeralt replied.   
  
“She wouldn’t do anything like that,” Cyril replied, trying not to let any frustration show. Who did this guy think he was, thinking things like that about Lady Rhea?   
  
“I’ve heard about your strength. And you saw my speed, and you’ve  _ seen  _ how Byleth acts. None of that is normal. All of it is because of her,” Jeralt said, his tone gravely serious.   
  
“...Well, I mean, is that really so bad? She’s just trying to help us, isn’t she?” Cyril asked.   
  
“Or she just wants us to be better puppets,” Jeralt offhandedly responded.   
  
Cyril tensed at that. The tension quickly became too much to bear.   
  
“I am  _ not  _ a puppet, and Lady Rhea would  _ not  _ do something like that! Just  _ shut up  _ already!” Cyril cried. “Y’know, maybe if you want to be left alone so bad, I’ll just tell her that you’re nothing but a big asshole who doesn’t trust her and isn’t grateful for anything she does!”   
  
“As if I care about that anymore. You’re just naive. Haven’t learned how to properly judge someone’s character.” Jeralt lowly replied.   
  
“Big words, coming from you, Toilet Boy,” Cyril shot back. If there was anyone who disliked being talked down to more than Byleth, it had to be him. “You really think the world would be any better if we all took advice from big babies who hide in bathrooms all day?!”  
  
Jeralt quickly stood to full height, taken aback by Cyril’s words, and then moved to speak, but Cyril was undaunted. “And y’know, you made her cry when you didn’t accept her gift that I sent you! And back then, I thought it was my fault for not being a good enough messenger, but you know what?! It was just  _ your  _ fault for being such a little bitch! You don’t need to love her, but if you’re just going to ignore her and avoid her and hurt her feelings all the time, you might as well just leave!"

“Watch your tone!” Jeralt said, but in Cyril’s state, he was too worked up to remember all his anxieties about what would happen if Jeralt were to speak ill of him.   
  
“Or what? You’ll cry to your  _ mommy?”  _ Cyril scoffed. “At least then you’d actually fucking talk to her.”   
  
Jeralt just took a deep breath, face settling into something hard and unreadable, before he finally skulked out of the bathroom.

Cyril felt triumphant in that moment, but spent the next few days pretending as if he  _ weren’t  _ silently terrified about the consequences of mouthing off to Jeralt.   
  
Fortunately, nothing really seemed to come of it, in spite of continuous paranoia and his constant hopes that he didn’t run into Jeralt again. Cyril wasn’t really sure how he’d gotten so lucky, but he still decided he really needed to keep a better handle on himself if he ever got into a situation like that again.

The only real noteworthy things over that period of time were Claude’s birthday and the class’s latest mission, then it was right back to business as usual.  
  
Still, Cyril didn’t fail to notice how Claude seemed like he was practically on cloud nine after the professor had a tea party with him for his birthday.

If Cyril didn’t know any better…   
  
Whatever. He had more important things to do than nose around in people’s love lives. Still, when it came to love…   
  
Something unexpected happened, right as the Blue Sea Moon drew to a close.  


* * *

One night, Cyril had stayed up somewhat late… It was a whirlwind of a day and he still hadn’t finished his homework by the usual time, requiring him to stay up somewhat longer than usual… even though he’d already gone through math combined with verb tenses and handwriting practice,  _ on top of  _ Shamir’s archery lessons and even some truly mind-boggling attempts to start learning Reason magic with Byleth, spurred on by his admiration of Lady Rhea and Lysithea’s graceful spellcasting… he honestly felt like he could sleep forever.

But just as he collapsed into bed, ready to let slumber claim him without a fight, there was a knock on his door. He almost didn’t want to answer it… He almost didn’t… but the concern that it might actually be important won out.   
  
With a huff, Cyril dragged himself out of bed and opened the door to find none other than Ashe… standing there with slumping shoulders and red-rimmed eyes, much to Cyril’s alarm.

“Ashe? What's wrong? Are you alright?” Cyril asked softly.   
  
“I… honestly, no. I… had a nightmare…” Ashe said, voice small and somewhat ragged. “I really didn’t want to bother anyone, and usually it’s alright, but… it was a bad one this time…”   
  
“You wanna talk about it?” Cyril asked, as he moved out of the doorframe and motioned for Ashe to come in, swiftly but quietly closing the door behind him.   
  
Ashe quietly walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment before finding the nerve to speak further on his troubles. “I… I dunno. I think I just really don’t want to be alone right now. The worst part of it was being alone. It was bad enough at first, all sorts of terrible things were happening... but towards the end, everything was black. I was all alone, I could barely breathe, I could barely see, and it was like something was squeezing my chest… And there was all this creepy whispering and snarling. So when I woke up, technically safe in my bed, but still alone in the dark… I didn’t really handle it well.” Ashe explained.

“You wanna… sleep here?” Cyril asked, sitting next to him. “If the problem is being alone, I’ll keep you company.”

“...Is that really okay with you?” Ashe asked, after a pause.   
  
“Sure. If anything, having a whole bedroom to myself is actually kinda weird for me.” Cyril said. “I was already used to sharing anyway.”   
  
“Well… if you say so, thanks for the offer. I promise not to bother you,” Ashe said.   
  
“You’re not a bother,” Cyril said, before stifling a yawn.

“O-oh, you must be tired… No wonder, with the way you’re always working so hard. Well, don’t let me keep you up, we can go to bed now. I’ll take the floor.” Ashe said.   
  
“You can have the bed too. I don’t mind sharing,” Cyril said as he laid down, completely truthfully. After all, he was used to sleeping in much worse or more cramped conditions, on top of intentionally sleeping with some level of physical contact with others, as it often helped them cope with all the hardships they were forced through together. Compared to all of that, sleeping next to Ashe wasn’t a problem at all. Especially since everyone was able to bathe regularly at the monastery… and with scented soap and hot water, at that.   
  
“I- I couldn’t possibly!” Ashe responded, eyes widening in mortification as blood rushed to his face.

“Come on. It’s way more comfortable up here,” Cyril said. “And if you want, I’ll sleep on the floor instead. I’m probably more used to it.” Cyril claimed.   
  
“No, you don’t have to do that! This is your room… that would be far too ungrateful…” Ashe said, looking down and trying to make himself look small.   
  
“But if you’re having nightmares, a comfortable place to sleep would help a lot.” Cyril said.   
  
“...I’ll… I guess we can share the bed, then…” Ashe said, hesitating for a moment before finally moving to lie down next to Cyril, although every motion he made felt heavy and awkward.   
  
“You okay?” Cyril asked, noticing the stiff awkwardness of movement.   
  
“I’m, uh, still kind of shaken up about the bad dreams…” Ashe said. He wasn’t really lying, it just… wasn’t the entire truth either.   
  
But since it was at least half true, Cyril didn’t question it.

“I’m here now,” Cyril said quietly. “Things will get easier. Just gotta take it one day at a time.”

“Thanks…” Ashe said, voice quiet but sincere.   
  
“And… when you’re feeling down, maybe you could try talking to Lady Rhea too? She-” Cyril paused, wondering if the advice was actually in… good taste. Hadn’t Lonato’s whole problem been that he was angry at the church? What if Ashe was doubting the church now too? Wondering if he needed to think critically about Lonato’s motivations? “She might be able to help… but it’s fine if you don’t want to,” Cyril said, trying to walk it back a little.

“I’ll think about it…” Ashe said quietly. “For now, I’m just… tired,” Ashe said, as he covered himself in a sheet. Summer was in full swing, and the night was warm, so they tried to give each other a good amount of space.   


“Alright… goodnight, Ashe. Sleep tight,” Cyril said, closing his eyes.

Ashe briefly tried to follow suit, but found he really couldn’t. His eyes opened again in mere moments, too many thoughts racing through his head.   
  
He contented himself with silently studying Cyril’s features, although he had to fight a constant twinge of guilt the whole way. Was it creepy of him, watching him so closely? Was it in bad faith? Cyril had been so kind as to share his bed with a  _ friend.  _ He hadn’t really consented to being stared at in his sleep… Especially not stared at in some kind of weird perv way.   
  
But then again, he was so…  _ distressingly  _ easy on the eyes…   
  
There was a small, dimly glowing magical stone placed on a little pedestal atop Cyril’s dresser, acting as a nightlight. Not bright or practical enough to truly replace torches and oil lamps, but good enough for a more modest job. Then the window was open as well, mainly letting in a gentle breeze but also acting to provide a bit of moonlight and starlight. Ashe almost wished it was just pitch black instead, so he’d have no choice but to be unable to see Cyril at all. Instead, he had to deal with how unfairly pretty he looked when he was bathed in soft light.   
  
Cyril’s breathing was soft and steady, and he looked so peaceful… Unlike usual, where Ashe could often notice an undercurrent of constant tension and vigilance to him. His skin looked soft, and Ashe couldn’t help but want to… get closer.   
  
Ashe quickly turned away instead, trying to steel his resolve. He couldn’t just keep ogling his friend! It was way too weird of him! He was a better man than that!

...Maybe just one more look?   
  
Ashe carefully rolled over, looked for just a couple of seconds more, then rolled away again, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him.   
  
Still, Ashe repeated the process a few more times, the process becoming rather tortuous the more he did it. Why did he even have to like Cyril so much, anyway?! Why’d Cyril have to be nice, hard working, super strong, really cute,  _ and  _ just guarded enough that it made him sort of charmingly mysterious?! Why?! When they’d first formally spoken to one another, why’d he have to go and share food with Ashe, and be all patient and understanding with him?! Why couldn’t Ashe just take it as a friendly gesture and not get his feelings all worked up about it?!

In the process of rolling around in silent emotional turmoil, Ashe didn’t realize that Cyril was a light sleeper… and hadn’t really been asleep long anyway.   
  
“Ashe,” Cyril said softly. Ashe froze. Shit. Cyril would totally be annoyed with him and kick him out of bed. He was already tired, he didn’t need Ashe complicating his rest.

“S-sorry,” Ashe reflexively responded.   
  
“If you’re tossing and turning that much… um… maybe… maybe you’re the kind of person who feels better holding something in their sleep?” Cyril asked, as his heartbeat sped up. He really wanted a way to help Ashe feel better… and he didn’t really know what else to do, out of all the other sleeping tactics he knew. He wasn’t a singer by any means, Ashe was probably too old for a bedtime story, and he wasn’t sure if warm milk or some cliche about counting sheep would be enough for a guy that basically got orphaned  _ twice. _ There was probably some kind of medicinal remedy, but he didn’t really know enough about that kind of thing either, and he didn’t wanna go bothering anyone else so late at night.

“Something like what?” Ashe asked, trying not to panic. Maybe Cyril just meant a pillow or something. That had to be what he meant. There was no way he meant… meant...   
  
“Well… in this case, um, more like… _ someone _ ,” Cyril added on, hoping that was obvious enough without having to be completely blunt.   


Ashe almost choked on his own spit. Shit. This was not a drill, this was  _ not  _ a drill. Cyril was seriously suggesting that he cuddle him?!   
  
“I mean, it’s probably a dumb idea, so you can just ignore me, or whatever, I don’t know, I just thought that maybe-” Cyril started, quickly losing heart. Of course Ashe wouldn’t want to do that, what was he thinking? He couldn’t just-   
  
“It’s not dumb,” Ashe abruptly replied, swallowing hard as he realized that meant he kind of  _ had  _ to follow up, or else it was gonna look like he was lying. Ashe scooted closer. “If you, um, haven’t changed your mind… it’d be fine with me…”   
  
“Um.” Cyril replied, brain feeling all fuzzy and weird. “Go on, then,” he awkwardly continued.   
  
Immediately, Cyril’s whole body stiffened as Ashe hesitantly but somewhat loosely put one arm over his torso and one arm up behind his neck and around his shoulders… There was still a bit of a gap between them, but Cyril took a deep breath of conviction and scooted closer to Ashe too, so that his head was nearly up against the crook of Ashe’s neck. He figured he needed to commit, that way Ashe wouldn’t be so worried that he didn’t like it.  


“To tell you the truth… I get trouble sleeping a lot too. Lady Rhea says the word for it is ‘insomnia’... But even though she knows about it, I usually just kinda act like it’s not a big deal. It has at least kinda actually gotten better, though…” Cyril admitted, as he carefully began to hold Ashe as well. Ashe knew he needed to get back to sleep, but that action alone made it feel like there were fireworks going off inside of him.   
  
“...Is this helping you too, then? I don’t want to make it harder for you,” Ashe said.   
  
“No, it helps… It feels nice, really.” Cyril admitted. It was still a bit warm to be so close to someone else… but it was far from unpleasant.

“That’s good,” Ashe said with a small sigh of relief, feeling a little less guilty in the knowledge that what they were doing was actually mutually beneficial. “Goodnight, then…”   
  
“Goodnight,” Cyril replied, as both of them went silent.   
  
Even though he was supposed to be going to sleep, Ashe couldn’t help but wonder if he was already dreaming. Not only did he get to sleep in Cyril’s bed, but Cyril actually decided to cuddle up with him? On purpose? It was too good to be true!   
  
Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly perfect, because it was still pretty hard to relax and Cyril apparently put off body heat like some kind of adorable little furnace… and Ashe knew it wasn’t exactly romantic to wake up and find out he practically drowned his crush in sweat… But the night’s heat was mild enough that it wasn’t so bad, as long as he wasn’t moving.

More importantly, it was more than good enough to fall asleep. Ashe figured he may as well enjoy it while it lasted. Even though Cyril said he got something out of it too, he was still probably just being extra nice because of what happened with Lonato.

They both slept peacefully for a while… at least until Cyril, the lighter sleeper, was awoken by the sound of Ashe repeatedly mumbling his name. Cyril awoke with confusion, then concern… only to hear Ashe speak in continued muttering tones, with gently closed eyes that indicated he was actually just talking in his sleep.

“No, Cyril… corn isn’t real… and even if it was, it wouldn’t be committing tax fraud… vegetables are too noble for that…” Ashe muttered.  


Normally, Cyril felt like he’d be kind of annoyed… Both of them needed to get up early, after all. But at the same time… it  _ was  _ pretty funny… and kind of cute, if Cyril was being honest. He decided to just wait patiently for what else Ashe would say.   
  
“Except peas… peas are planning… revolt… gotta stop them... if we want… whirled peas…” Ashe continued. Cyril had to put literally all of his effort into stopping the laughter that threatened to spill out of him, but a stifled giggle still made it.   
  
“Cyril, don’t laugh…” Ashe said. Cyril was stock-still for a second, briefly terrified that he woke Ashe up, but Ashe’s eyes didn’t open, and his speech still sounded kind of muffled and slurred. “I’m telling you… peas... evil… set up base... under floorboards… gonna kill us…”   
  
Cyril poorly stifled more laughter.

“Shh. If you laugh… they’ll sic the hounds on us…” Ashe responded, which  _ really, really  _ just made Cyril wanna laugh even more.   
  
“Please, Cyril… don’t… you can’t fight the pea dogs…” Ashe continued. “Just because they’re pea dogs doesn’t mean they’re…  _ pea _ ceful….”   
  
If it was possible to die from repressing too much laughter, Cyril felt like he might become the first victim. He actually had to start coughing a bit when the effort of trying not to nearly made him choke. Still, upon noticing Ashe was still asleep, but seemed to respond to what sounds he made in real life, he figured he could have a bit more fun with the whole situation.   
  
“Ashe,” Cyril whispered. “I know their weakness. Peas are afraid of squash.”   
  
“...Cyril. Cyril, you’re a genius…” Ashe said, sounding sleepily relieved. “I forgot we were allied with squash… the pea soup gave me brain poisoning...”   
  
“Yeah, I know, I’m pretty awesome,” Cyril replied, trying his best to sound serious.   
  
“And just plain pretty…” Ashe replied.   
  
_ That  _ threw Cyril for a loop.   
  
“Wh… What?!” Cyril asked, doing everything he could to keep his voice low enough that Ashe didn’t wake up.   
  
“You’re… pretty… like morning dew on a field of flowers...” Ashe re-iterated, a statement which caused Cyril’s cheeks to burn.   
  
“I-I am?”   
  
“Mmm…” Ashe sleepily replied. “You’re beautiful, love…”   
  
_ L-love?!?! _ _   
_ _   
_ “Um… you’re…. you’re pretty too…”  _ _ Cyril replied, his voice extremely quiet, his cheeks still burning. He didn’t really have the heart to joke again, and as much as he told himself he was just ‘playing along’, it wasn’t like he was lying. Ashe honestly had to be one of the prettiest boys he’d ever seen. Especially when he was smiling, or laughing, or looking all excited with his keen green eyes all wide and sparkly… Ashe smiled slightly in his sleep.   
  
“Thanks… but no need to be shy, sweetheart…”   
  
** _Sweetheart?!?!_ **

Cyril couldn’t take it anymore. The whole weird exchange surely wasn’t good for his heart.   
  
He wanted to turn away from Ashe as his heart beat wildly, but apparently Ashe was sort of aware of his actual movements too. The moment he tried, Ashe suddenly tensed and spoke again, his previously slackened hold on Cyril tightening.   
  
“Don’t leave…” Ashe softly whined. “It’s okay… I’ll protect you…”   
  
If Cyril’s cheeks weren’t burning enough before, that certainly did the trick. Still, he didn’t know what else to do but lay there, stewing in a silent mixture of mortification and intense fascination. For the most part, Cyril wanted to just clam up, go back to sleep, and hope Ashe had totally forgotten about everything by morning…   
  
But he figured he should at least give Ashe one last response, to keep his dream as something relatively benign.   


“I’m not going anywhere,” Cyril gently replied. “Promise.”

That seemed to appease Ashe, as he relaxed and adopted a slight but contented smile, and Cyril didn’t hear another peep from him as he slowly managed to drift off himself, after another hefty bout of silent agonizing over what Ashe had said to him.

* * *

In the morning, things felt... surprisingly normal, all things considered. Cyril definitely felt his heartbeat triple in speed as soon as his mind realized that he was nuzzled closely against Ashe, but the world didn't end, and guards didn't kick his door down and expose him for illicit cuddling crimes... Which was really nice, because Ashe was actually super comfortable, and Cyril was in no particular rush to get up. He basked in enjoyment of Ashe's proximity for a short while, only to fight back the urge to audibly whine in disappointment when Ashe started waking up too. He had half a mind to ask him if he just wanted to cuddle for a bit, but the more his brain woke up, the more he realized what a horrible idea that was. The half of his mind that came up with it was promptly beaten up and scolded by the Sensible Half, which knew he needed to play it cool and act like a Normal Person before he scared Ashe away.  


As they both woke up fully, they steadily untangled themselves and sat up in the bed, a process that made both of them a bit flustered as they fully realized just how intimately close they were, and how much they'd _enjoyed _being that close. 

"I know it's already morning, but sorry again if that was too weird, or if you felt like you were regretting it or anything..." Ashe said. "Like I said... I usually don't have this much trouble."

“No, it's really no problem. If you ever need to come back, go right ahead…” Cyril said… although part of him wished he had the nerve to outright  _ tell  _ him to come back, rather than just give him permission. He’d thought he’d been lucky enough to have a soft bed to himself. But being able to nuzzle up close with someone he cared about… it was… more than he could ever ask for. He hadn't thought he'd get the chance again, or even allow himself to have the chance in the first place.  
  
“...Well, as long as it doesn’t bother you too much,” Ashe said, cheeks a bit red. Fortunately, it was still dark enough that Cyril couldn’t tell. “I promise I won’t abuse it.”

Of course, there was no way in hell Cyril had the nerve to directly tell Ashe about the stuff he overheard either… but maybe…   
  
“By the way, Ashe, did you… have any dreams, last night?” Cyril asked, intentionally vague.   
  
“...Not that I remember.” Ashe said, as Cyril covertly studied his expression. It seemed like he was telling the truth. It wasn’t too odd to forget what you’d dreamt about, after all. Strangely, Cyril really didn’t know if that made him happy or not.   
  
It’d be great to be able to ask him if he really meant all that stuff he said in his sleep, or if that was just some weird dream stuff…   
  
But Cyril had to assume it was the latter. Dreams involved stuff that wasn’t true all the time.    
  
Still…   
  
What was with the weird feeling in his chest? Why did it… sort of upset him to dismiss it as something Ashe didn’t mean? Especially when it was still incredibly daunting to consider that Ashe might’ve actually meant it…

“Um… I did sleep really well, though…” Ashe said. “You’re… comfy. Really warm, too.” Ashe admitted.

Cyril suddenly felt better when Ashe said that, offering some troubling evidence as to why exactly he had the weird upset feeling going on. Cyril did his best to ignore any possible connection and just say  _ something, anything  _ to distract himself. “You smell nice,” Cyril replied, hoping that wasn’t a weird thing to say. His sense of smell had become so much stronger since living at the monastery. He couldn’t help but notice Ashe’s scent.

“Uh… Thanks?” Ashe replied. He had to admit that Cyril was a little odd sometimes… but in his eyes, it was largely a good thing.   
  
The two talked for a bit longer, the conversation steadily becoming more ‘normal’, Cyril’s anxieties steadily dying down for the time being.   
  
After a while, Ashe left the room to go back to his own. Cyril was gripped by a sudden desire to walk him back, since it was still pretty dark, but he repressed the urge. That just felt too much like…   
  
He cut the thought short, the thought of giving it too much weight making him somehow uneasy.   
  
Cyril left the room a bit later, but it didn’t take all too long for him to come across Seteth. Immediately, he felt somehow guilty and paranoid, despite knowing he hadn’t really done anything wrong. Right? No, of course. Of course he hadn’t done anything wrong… had he?

“Cyril…” Seteth asked, voice outwardly calm but dead serious. “What was Ashe doing in your room?”   
  
“Uh… he was having bad dreams, so he came over and I helped him get to sleep,” Cyril explained, the words feeling strangely difficult to get out. He could feel Seteth’s eyes boring into him as Seteth leaned a bit closer, but since he was telling the truth, Seteth soon eased up a bit.

“I see. Why do you have so much of his scent on you, then?” Seteth asked.

“...Um,” Cyril started, quickly growing more flustered. He’d forgotten that Seteth, Flayn, and Rhea all seemed to have exceptionally powerful noses too. “We cuddled, because he was tossing and turning a lot and I wanted to help him…” Cyril finally explained, after a tense pause. “Is that… is that bad?” Cyril asked. He honestly wasn’t sure. Nothing  _ truly  _ inappropriate happened, but with the stuff Ashe had said in his sleep… it was definitely…  _ something. _   
  
Seteth gave a sigh of relief when it seemed like Cyril was still being completely honest. “No, I suppose not… If you were merely seeking to help a friend of yours, that’s fine. I just… well, I was somewhat worried that perhaps…” Seteth trailed off with an awkward cough.   
  
Cyril’s expression shifted from apprehension to mortification as what Seteth implied steadily clicked into place. “Isn’t it- isn’t it wrong for two boys to do that kind of thing?!” Cyril shot back.   
  
Seteth briefly wondered what he was getting himself into as he forced his response. “N-no, of course not! I just believe you are… both too young to partake.” Seteth awkwardly responded, although he was at least a bit relieved that he didn’t have to explain to Cyril what exactly he was talking about.    
  
“I-it’s not like I like him like that!” Cyril cried. “And even if I did, it’s- it’s none of your business anyway!” he snapped… although he then stopped and thought for a moment. “Wait.. so you’re saying… it’s not wrong?”   
  
Seteth caught how strangely relieved Cyril sounded on that last part, but just awkwardly coughed again, looking around as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “...If,  _ hypothetically,  _ you were to develop _ romantic feelings _ for another man, assuming that you were  _ hypothetically  _ predisposed to such things... the Church Of Seiros would still support you and allow you to marry, regardless of social standings. It is simply that children and teenagers are too young for the more…  _ adult  _ aspects of such a thing.” Seteth explained.   
  
“...Well, that’s… good to know,” Cyril said, swallowing rather thickly. Could Seteth already… tell?   
  
No, no he couldn’t, because what was there to tell in the first place?!   
  
Ashe was just a good friend of his!   
  
Nothing weird going on at all, no sir!   
  
It was okay to be extra close to him, because they needed each other, and friends were supposed to be there for each other.    
  
Even after Seteth just somewhat awkwardly left Cyril to his own devices, Cyril clung to that explanation tightly over the coming weeks, choosing not to think too much further about the matter. Still, he could notice all the little differences in the back of his mind. It seemed like that single night had broken some kind of subtle, undefined barrier between the two of them… and Cyril would be lying if he said Seteth’s words hadn’t reassured and encouraged him a bit as well. Sure, Ashe was  _ totally  _ just a great friend, but it was nice to know that no one was going to accuse them of doing anything wrong. He figured he may as well indulge a little, if that was the case. Touches came more easily, more frequently. Holding hands to not get separated in a forest, or for comfort when it was dark. A reassuring hand on the other’s shoulder. Sitting beneath a tree, leaning against each other… A quick hug when things were hard to deal with.   
  
Obviously, people noticed, but Cyril swore up and down that he  _ definitely  _ didn’t have a crush. To everyone, even himself.   
  
Ashe was just a special kind of friend, that was all. It was just because Ashe understood, that made it more okay for them to touch so often. He actually understood being a broke nobody. He understood being scorned and mistrusted. He understood having to do bad things to survive. He understood feeling like no one cared about you, feeling beaten down and helpless. That was why it was okay. Because Ashe was special, and Ashe needed him.   


That was exactly why he couldn’t possibly have a crush on Ashe.   
  
There’d come a day when Ashe  _ didn’t  _ need him anymore, would surely move on and become a great knight with no time for someone like Cyril... and Cyril would make sure it didn’t hurt any more than it had to.   
  
Cyril tried his best not to let anyone else know that he and Ashe kept helping each other sleep at least four times a week. Put everything he had into not audibly betraying his delighted relief the first time Ashe had returned to his room. Rhea and Flayn knew, much the same way that Seteth did, but Rhea was just thrilled that he made such a ‘good friend’. In Flayn’s case, she was at least good with secrets, even if she did love to tease him when no one else was around. Still, Cyril didn’t want to admit that Ashe’s touch was starting to become… kind of addictive. Cyril would’ve originally thought it was the kind of thing you ‘get out of your system’... but the more it happened, the more he wanted it.   
  
Still, at least Cyril didn’t hear any more dreams from Ashe quite like the one he’d heard that first night. There were a couple of new nightmares, but nothing unmanageable. Most of the dreams were still pretty silly when they did happen, but harmless, safe to actually talk and joke about. Not any weird thing where your friend shamelessly flirts with you in his sleep. “ _ And you kinda like it,”  _ part of Cyril’s mind supplies, but he does his damnedest to ignore it.

He does  _ not  _ wish Ashe were with him every time he doesn’t come to Cyril’s room at night.   
  
Does  _ not  _ briefly relish the extra space he has in bed, and the reduced heat, only to suddenly feel strangely dissatisfied.    
  
Does  _ not  _ wake up after such nights briefly deflating when Ashe isn’t there, despite knowing full well he’ll be in class, sitting right next to him.  


Ashe was only an important friend of his, and that was  ** _all_ ** .  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da! I wrote a good chunk of this when I was feeling lonely, and now it’s way shippier than I originally planned! The power of letting your emotional states control your writing! Also I just fuckign love the "platonic" bed-sharing trope,,, gdhgdgd,,,
> 
> Considering that this version of Rhea hardly understands human romance in the first place, I really don’t think she’d give a damn about trying to discourage any LGBT activity, lmao.
> 
> *casually sneaks in implication of M!Byleth/Claude starting to become a thing, just because I will never not be BIG SAD that intsys wouldn’t let me marry him without being a girl.*
> 
> Also I do actually like Cyril/Lysithea and Cyril/Petra to some degree, so platonic takes on those will be happening. When you’re given the chance to make something gay, you can’t very well just pass it up, can you?
> 
> Also also, there should really be Lysithea and Ashe supports,,, like even if they only went up to B, that'd be better than nothing. You’re telling me they both love sweets and hate ghosts but you didn’t give them any? Smh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, it turns out I kinda accidentally fucking lied about this story not being *that* romantic, because this chapter is pretty much nothing but either Ashe/Cyril or discussion of Ashe/Cyril.
> 
> I guess that's what I deserve for writing this on a whim and deciding what to write based on how I feel at any given time.... and the mood for this chapter was 'Big Mushy Time', apparently.

One evening, Ashe was on his own, a situation that’d become increasingly rare ever since his friendship with Cyril… At first, that was purely because of his own efforts to be around Cyril, but once Cyril had started reciprocating the effort, it became rarer still.    
  
But finally, a scheduling conflict when it came to chores and training meant that Ashe was simply on his own for once. He’d just finished his duties, and was heading back to his room, figuring he’d unwind with a book for a little while… at least until he came across Dimitri.   
  
“Good day, Ashe,” Dimitri said warmly.    
  
“Oh, Dimitri! Hello! How have you been?” Ashe replied.   
  
“Fine, thank you for asking, but I’ve been meaning to ask you something in turn… I didn’t mean for it to take this long, but I preferred to do it without your new friend around… Cyril, wasn’t that his name?” Dimitri asked.   
  
“Yes, that’s it! But why can’t Cyril be around?” Ashe asked, a bit worried. “Is there something going on with him?”   
  
“No, it’s nothing like that. I shouldn’t have worded it so ominously. It’s just… I’ve been wanting to know why you left the Blue Lions, and I’d like you to speak candidly, if you don’t mind.” Dimitri asked. “Therefore, it’d be best if no one else is around to influence your words.”   
  
“Oh, well, it’s… I told you, I wanted to focus more on archery, right?” Ashe responded, doing his best to sound upbeat and casual. “Gotta do my best, after all.”   
  
“...Is that all?” Dimitri responded, cocking his head slightly and frowning a bit.   
  
Ashe’s smile became more tense and fraught for a brief moment as he looked away from Dimitri and then back again.

“Well…” Ashe started.   
  
“I do not mean to accuse you of anything. I merely worry that you are too polite to admit that part of it was our doing. It happened so soon after your loss, after all. Were we too unsympathetic? Not attentive enough to your feelings? Putting too much pressure on you?” Dimitri asked.   
  
“N-no, it wasn’t any of that, I just…”   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Well, it’s just… The real reason… sounds rather silly to say out loud.”

“As I said, you can be completely honest here. I don’t expect you to change your mind, I just want to understand the situation better. I believe it would help.”   
  
“...The archery part isn’t a lie, but… I also did it because, I, um, have feelings for someone...” Ashe admitted. “I promise it’s not that I want to sacrifice my future, or anything like that! It’s just… I wanted to be closer to them so badly, and I just…” Ashe trailed off, but Dimitri just nodded in understanding.   
  
“So it’s Cyril, then?” Dimitri asked, even though he actually already sounded completely sure of himself. Ashe immediately gave Dimitri the look of a startled deer… Fitting, considering his new house.   
  
“I’m…  _ that  _ obvious?” Ashe asked, half embarrassed and half worried.   
  
“Well, yes, quite frankly. But I find it charming. And I’ve seen the way you train and study together, so I have faith that you’re still paying attention to your ambitions. Now, as to how you could go about accommodating him into your future…”   
  
“D-Dimitri!” Ashe sputtered, mind reeling at what he might be implying. “It’s… it’s true that I am…  _ incredibly  _ fond of him, but… it hasn’t even been all that long to be talking about things like that!”   
  
“From what I can imply, he doesn’t have many prospects in his native country, and he seems perfectly happy here… Especially with you. I’m sure he’d be happy to accept whatever life you have together.”   
  
“H-hold on, why are you talking like we’ll get married or something?! I haven’t even managed to tell him I have these feelings!” Ashe cried. “W-what if he doesn’t like me back? What if I embarrass myself? What if he’s not even into boys?!”   
  
“...I suppose the first step would be to ask if he is,” Dimitri replied.

“What if that makes me look suspicious? Why else would I want to know unless I’m  _ hoping _ he is? _ ! _ ’ Ashe cried.  
  
“Just be casual,” Dimitri replied. “If he  _ is,  _ and he knows you are too… that could encourage him greatly. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate, sharing that trait could help you bond. In turn, that could cause him to change his mind later on.”   
  
Ashe just gave a deep sigh in response. “And if he isn’t?”   
  
“Not to be presumptuous… but I sincerely doubt it,” Dimitri said with an almost mischievous smirk, which was essentially just his polite way of saying that he’d  _ seen  _ the way Cyril looked at Ashe. The way he completely dropped his guard around him, the way he saw the younger boy laughing and smiling so much more often than before. The way they touched, and the way that if they were ever separate, it wouldn’t be long before Cyril would be asking around, wondering where he’d gone.   
  
Besides the lack of kissing or outright admission of feelings, it honestly came off a lot like a young, lovey-dovey couple. Like the countless flings Sylvain had, just far more heartfelt and genuine.

But Dimitri knew Ashe would probably get even more flustered than he already was if he heard someone admit such a thing, so he kept it vague.   
  
“Well, if you really think so,” Ashe hesitantly replied. “I’ll try my best to bring it up soon.”   
  
“Alright, then… Good luck with your not-boyfriend, Ashe.”   
  
Ashe blushed at that, not expecting that Dimitri of all people would tease him a bit… but he couldn’t exactly deny that he’d been doing a lot of beating around the bush when it came to making progress with Cyril. So, overall, Ashe would say the conversation went well enough.    
  
But elsewhere, a certain other boy was receiving advice of his own, in the midst of studying with Lysithea at their usual outdoor location.

* * *

“So… you and Ashe, huh?” Lysithea asked with a smirk.   
  
“W-we’ve been over this…” Cyril replied, quickly growing flustered.   
  
“No we haven’t. You just keep changing the subject, or stalling, or lying about it, when we all know you’re head over heels for your precious little not-boyfriend.” Lysithea pointed out.    
  
“I- I don’t  _ always  _ do that…” Cyril lamely protested.   
  
“Of  _ course _ you don’t. And water isn’t wet, while we’re at it,” Lysithea responded, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But don’t worry your gay little head, Cyril. I, Love Guru Lysithea, will humbly offer my services free of charge.”   
  
“Y-you… have you actually been with anyone before?” Cyril asked. As embarrassing as it was… Lysithea  _ was  _ really smart, after all.   
  
“Well… no, but I’ve read plenty of books on the matter!” Lysithea responded, somewhat defensively.   
  
“Oh boy…” Cyril said.   
  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?! What, you don’t think I have good advice?”   
  
“T-that’s not it! I think you say all kinds of useful stuff! It’s just… he’s just my friend, that’s all!”   
  
“Liar.” Lysithea responded immediately.   
  
“Am not!” Cyril weakly shot back, a whine creeping into his tone.   
  
“Are too!” Lysithea responded. “Remember, Cyril, this doesn’t actually count as ‘we’ve been over this’... So if you keep doing this, I’ll have no choice but to keep bringing it up…”   
  
“W-what do you want from me?!” Cyril cried, pouting at the interrogation.   
  
“I’d rather you just admit you like him, but don’t want to talk about it, rather than constantly trying to pretend you don’t like him… Especially when you  _ obviously  _ do. You look at him like you wanna marry him on the spot. Denial never works, Cyril.”   
  
“W-well… don’t you think we should just… focus on our studies? Worry about being good students? Not be distracted by boys?” Cyril sheepishly argued.    
  
“On one hand, you make a good point, but on the other hand, you’re already distracted as it is by constantly repressing your feelings… And on the third hand-” Lysithea started, before actually creating a convincing illusion of a third arm just to emphasize her point. “-which I have spontaneously grown after constant exposure to your ridiculousness, it’s incredibly obvious that you’re only saying that to make me change the subject. Nice try, though! I especially like how you’re implying that Ashe really is distracting you.”   
  
Cyril swore under his breath. He should’ve known Lysithea was too smart for excuses like that. He glanced towards an hourglass on their study table, there to keep track of when it was time to take breaks. “But it’s still not time to-”   
  
Lysithea made a subtle hand motion towards it, causing it to speed up dramatically for a moment. “Now it is!” she said triumphantly. Cyril just groaned lowly. Magic was such bullshit sometimes.   
  
“Okay, I just… If you promise not to embarrass me or force me into anything, I promise to be honest.” Cyril finally said, relenting.   
  
“Deal,” Lysithea said, as the third arm disappeared in a brief flicker. There was a brief pause as Cyril gathered his thoughts (and courage), then finally began to speak.   
  
“Okay, so… I don’t want to sound like a huge sap or anything, but… I think I might… kinda… love him, maybe?” Cyril quietly admitted, a blush rising as soon as he spoke the words aloud. “Which is stupid. And a little... scary. I haven’t even known him super long. I mean, I’ve seen him  _ around  _ for a while, but I wasn’t ever  _ talking  _ to him. And I hadn’t noticed how…  _ good  _ he looks...”   
  
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it makes sense that you’re the kind of person to fall fast.” Lysithea said. “You act tough, and in a lot of ways you  _ are  _ tough, but you still really want to be accepted and appreciated. After all, you haven’t had a lot of that in your life. So once you find someone who does that, of course you end up really liking them.”   
  
“It’s not like I  _ mean to,  _ I just… Once I start getting close to someone, everything gets all weird, ‘cause I really,  _ really  _ want them to like me, and it’s like, all I can think about… But at the same time, it’s scary to be too close to them ‘cause I could just end up losing them, and I don’t know how I’d handle it… “ Cyril said. “It’s already been hard enough to handle as it is… So I feel like I’m trying to make up for it and avoid it all at the same time.”   
  
“Well, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that getting close to people isn’t a risk. It is. Life in general is just one risk after another. But we go through all of that because we think that what we might get in the end is still worth it. And a lot of the time, it actually is!” Lysithea responded. “Even though things are bad pretty often, they can also be good pretty often, if you just do the best you can.”   
  
“That makes a lot of sense… I just… I don’t know, I just kinda wish there were more rules to this. I can  _ do  _ rules. I can do training, and homework, and errands, and a bunch of other stuff, once someone tells me what to do, but… Ashe doesn’t tell me how to make him like me. And I can’t  _ force _ him to like me in the first place! It’s like I only control half of it, and it drives me  _ crazy _ !”   
  
“So what it sounds like is, you need to learn how to be more trusting,” Lysithea said. “You admire these people you care about so much, but you still can’t trust that they’ll actually stay with you, even though it’d be wrong to abandon you… Yet, you’re perfectly able to trust that they won’t do  _ other _ bad things. As long as it’s not about  _ that,  _ you have no problem believing in them. Why is that?” Lysithea asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Cyril lamely replied, slumping in his seat a bit.

“Well, it’s probably because part of you doesn’t actually think that abandoning you would be bad, even if that’s obviously untrue. Part of you thinks that you’d  _ deserve  _ it if they left, or if something happened to them. So that means that no matter how much you believe in them, you’ll never trust completely if part of you keeps believing that you deserve it.” Lysithea continued. “Basically, you also need to be less insecure. That should be your first step.”   
  
“Huh… so you mean, like how you get so insecure about being thought of as a kid?” Cyril asked.   
  
Lysithea went from seeming as if she were reading Cyril’s mind like a book to suddenly shrinking back, nervous and off-guard. “W-well, sort of, I guess, but-” Lysithea quickly made a subtle finger motion towards the hourglass on the table, causing it to briefly speed up dramatically. “Well, would you look at that! Breaktime’s over! Unfortunate! Guess we don’t have time to talk about that anymore!” Lysithea said, with a clearly forced grin.

“I see what you’re doing, but since ya did actually have some good advice, I’ll let it slide this time,” Cyril said. “Just remember: changing the subject doesn’t count as ‘we’ve been over this’.” Cyril teasingly reminded her.

Lysithea just pouted for a moment before they returned to their studies.   
  
Although Cyril had briefly gained the ‘upper hand’ in who was more flustered, he still silently mulled over Lysithea’s words, doing his best to remember the core takeaway…   
  
More trusting, less insecure…   
  
He could… he could do that, couldn’t he?

As it turned out, no matter how simple it sounded when boiled down to its core…   
  
Trying to be less insecure was fucking  _ hard _ ** _. _ ** Like,  _ stupid  _ hard. A hundred times harder than trying to pull off faith and reason magic, which was hard enough. Sure, he believed in himself plenty when it came to all of his chores, homework, and training… but the concept that people wouldn’t get tired of him, or just decide to drop him as soon as he did something wrong?  _ Maddeningly  _ elusive.

Ashe was the same as always, over the coming days. Which was to say, stupidly kind, stupidly pretty, and practically perfect in general.   
  
But unbeknownst to Cyril, Ashe was dealing with his own crisis… The crisis of when exactly to ask Cyril if he was into boys. He knew there were technically plenty of opportunities, but none of them felt quite  _ right.  _ Class had a bunch of other people, and so did the dining hall. It was way too awkward and suspicious to bring it up during their cuddle sessions _ ,  _ they usually had Byleth or Shamir overseeing them when they practiced archery together, and Cyril was such a busybody…   
  
Eventually, Ashe decided he’d just have to suck it up and  _ make  _ an opportunity for them to be alone… Even if that was a worrisome option in itself, since it felt so…  _ intimate. _ _   
_ _   
_ Just as they finished dinner together, Ashe made his move. “Cyril… um… you wanna… go somewhere… private?”   
  
Ashe figured that Cyril made some weird coughing noises and got all red because his food was too spicy.   
  
“Are you alright? Do you need milk?” Ashe asked worriedly.   
  
“N-no, I’m fine! And yeah, we can go wherever you want! Anywhere! Anything for you,” Cyril replied, internally cringing a little when he realized that the last part sounded a little… suspect.   
  
Ash definitely noticed it, feeling some heat rush to his cheeks and ears as well, but he figured Cyril was just being nice. “Great! There’s this nice spot I’ve found out in one of the forests nearby, it won’t take too long,” Ashe said. Cyril’s brain was buzzing with the possibilities, even as he did his best not to jump to conclusions. It was definitely a bit much to expect a confession, even though he couldn’t deny it was his greatest hope… still, even if was something else, it could still be an important opportunity. Maybe Ashe was going to confide in him about something sad… then he’d get to comfort him, and Ashe would cuddle him, and they’d be all alone with no one to bother them… Maybe Ashe was trusting him with some kind of amazing secret that he wouldn’t tell anyone else, and he’d get to feel really special and important for being able to know.   
  
On the other hand… what if it was something bad? What if he was doing something Ashe didn’t like? What if Ashe didn’t want to be friends anymore? What if he said he didn’t want to come cuddle anymore? What if he said Cyril was clingy? What if he was accidentally being annoying? What if he wanted privacy so he could get advice on his crush on someone  _ else? _ _   
_ __   
Cyril forced himself to calm down as best he could. He had to trust Ashe. For both Ashe’s sake and the sake of his own sanity.

* * *

  
Cyril quietly followed Ashe, but an easy conversation between the two soon began, steadily calming them both on the way.   
  
Sure enough, there was a quiet and relaxing forest clearing not too far from the main grounds of the monastery, complete with a peacefully flowing brook and an overall picturesque vibe. Cyril briefly figured that Ignatz would probably like it.  
  
The naturally relaxing atmosphere was highly welcome to Cyril, considering that he felt like he was gonna die of anticipation any minute.   
  
“ _ A relaxing place is the perfect place to break bad news to someone,”  _ Cyril’s brain supplied, but he did his best to not fixate on that.   
  
Soon after entering the clearing, Ashe turned and faced Cyril, conviction in his eyes. Cyril stared back, noting just how  _ pretty  _ said eyes were in the steadily setting sun, set with so much focus and yet fondness, so keen and-  _ Goddess,  _ he really needed to actually focus.   
  
“Cyril, I have a serious question for you. It’s not… it’s not bad, or anything, just… a question. Something I’ve wanted to know for a while” Ashe started. Part of him felt like he was probably making way too big of a deal out of the whole thing… which would in turn be suspicious… but he really had no idea when or how else to ask. Being too casual about it felt weird too.   
  
“Oh… so it's just a question? Alright, what is it?” Cyril asked, relaxing a bit. He could at least believe it wasn’t bad if Ashe said so.   
  
A-are you… you know,” Ashe tried.   
  
“Know what?” Cyril asked.   
  
“Boys.” Ashe unhelpfully replied, realizing the issue with his response a moment too late.   
  
“What about… boys?” Cyril asked hesitantly. Ashe could practically see the gears in his head turning.   
  
“H-how do you… how do you… feel about ‘em, I guess?” Ashe asked, chuckling awkwardly.   
  
“I’m sorry, I don’t really get what you’re trying to ask. They’re… alright? They’re people, I guess?” Cyril replied. “Are you talking about boys in our class? The academy? What boys?”   
  
“I mean… how do they make you feel, like, in  _ that  _ kind of way?” Ashe tried. He was  _ definitely  _ making way too big of a deal out of it, he was sure of it by the way he was making the whole question so stupidly roundabout instead of having the guts to be blunt about it… but the fear that Cyril could give him an answer he didn’t want to hear...   
  
“I-In what way?” Cyril replied, actually starting to catch on but also starting to get a bit nervous. It felt best to approach the question cautiously, get clarification... “Is this some kinda riddle?”    
  
Ashe just took a deep breath, finally deciding to rip off the bandaid once and for all… at least for this step in particular. “No, Cyril! I’m trying to ask if you’re  _ gay _ ! Gay, as in, attracted to boys!”   
  
Cyril went stock-still at that, a moment of fear welling up in him. Not at Ashe’s tone, but his intent. Was it some kind of test? Would Ashe sneer that he ‘knew it’ and decide to stop being friends? Was Ashe going to be upset? No… Ashe wasn’t cruel like that. Cyril didn’t deserve that. Ashe was a good person. Trust Ashe. Trust Ashe. Trust Ashe, and it’ll all be okay.    
  
“I… guess… if that’s what you mean, then yeah. But there’s only one boy I’ve ever really, um, seriously felt like I wanna be with,” Cyril replied, hoping Ashe would be curious and press him on it… and then  _ hopefully,  _ Cyril would have the balls to at least drop hints until Ashe understood.   
  
“O-oh, that’s good! So am I!” Ashe replied. “Well… I like girls too, but boys are really nice!”   
  
Cyril was a bit upset that his attempt to lead Ashe into a certain line of conversation didn’t work, but simultaneously thrilled to at least hear that much. It meant he might… actually have a chance.   
  
“Seriously? That’s good to know… I’m glad I’m not the only one around here,” Cyril said.   
  
“You’d be surprised,” Ashe said with a brief chuckle.    
  
“S-so, uh…” Cyril started. His first instinct was to get information on who Ashe liked… but the fear of not getting the answer he wanted held him back. “Is that all you brought me here for? You didn’t have to be so nervous just to ask something like that…”   
  
“I know, but… that’s not all. I just like spending time with you, and it’s nice to be away from all the stress sometimes.” Ashe replied. “...You make me feel like everything is okay for once.”   
  
“Oh, um… thank you,” Cyril replied, acting much calmer than he actually felt. “Things do get pretty crazy around here sometimes… Honestly, part of why I get so focused on my work is because I feel like that keeps me from thinking about it too hard. But… ever since I’ve been making actual friends, I feel like that helps a lot… Especially when it comes to you,” Cyril shyly admitted. “You’re… real important to me…”   
  
It was Ashe’s turn to internally squeal with joy, but he couldn’t hold it in quite as well as Cyril, his body practically begging him to do something with all the pent up emotion… And so, he ended up pulling Cyril into a warm embrace before Cyril even fully realized what was going on.   
  
With most people, Cyril would likely pull away from the sudden contact in disdain… But since it was Ashe, and no one was watching anyway, Cyril all but melted into the contact. As he reciprocated, tenderly wrapping his arms around Ashe and taking in his scent along with the scent of the forest, the brook, and the other little notes of nature on the wind... he silently wished the moment could last forever.    


Unfortunately, they merely had to settle for about thirty more minutes alone together before they figured it’d be best to get back to the rest of the monastery… on one hand, it was more than either of them had previously hoped for, but on the other hand, the rest of their time together wasn’t as romantic as either would’ve liked. Things were much like usual, just casually shooting the breeze and going over lighter topics instead.   
  
Ashe supposed it was at least interesting, if confusing, to find out that Flayn was apparently teaching Cyril how to talk to lizards… and that it somehow worked well enough that Cyril spent a good chunk of that time telling a gecko to do tricks for them.

* * *

Still, once nightfall came, Ashe found himself back in Cyril’s bed… He knew full well it was rather unusual to be making a habit of, but honestly, the more he did it, the less inclined he was to bother trying to stop. Rather than being the kind of thing you 'get out of your system', it seemed like it was simply becoming addictive instead. Regardless, there was at least one other concern on his mind as he settled into his usual position beside Cyril.

“...Um, Cyril,” Ashe said quietly.   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“...Since you know I like boys now… it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with this anymore,” Ashe said quietly.   
  
“Nah, it doesn’t bother me. It wouldn’t be fair of me to act that way, especially not if I’m the same way,” Cyril said. “And either way, I know ya wouldn’t do anything bad,” Cyril continued, finding that he suddenly understood what Lysithea had been talking about with greater clarity than ever before. He had no trouble at all trusting that Ashe wouldn’t possibly take advantage of him in his sleep, in spite of still being so worried that his bond with Ashe would truly last.   
  
“Thanks,” Ashe said softly. “...At first, I still kind of… worried that I was bothering you too much, but… the nightmares have really eased up. So, maybe I don’t really need this like before… but either way, I’m not just using you to deal with nightmares,” Ashe said. “I just… Like I said before, I really like being around you. You make me feel… safe, and happy, and warm… Like everything will be okay. Which is a bigger deal than you might think, because a lot of the time I’m really just kind of  _ pretending  _ like everything’s gonna be okay… but you make me  _ actually  _ feel that way, which feels  _ way  _ better.”    


“I definitely feel the same,” Cyril responded, doing his best to sound casual even though his brain was silently screaming. “You’re my best friend.”   
  
“You too,” Ashe replied, with a soft and genuine chuckle, which truly came as a shock to Cyril even as it made his heart do a weird little dance.    


“But… you’re always so nice. Lots of people like you. How am I your best friend?” Cyril asked.   
  
“While there are certainly others I care about, and others I’ve known longer… You just... ‘click’ the most, I guess I’d say. We have a lot in common, including when it comes to the more difficult parts of our past… and you’re so honest, and reliable, and such a great listener, and I don’t have to worry about feeling like you’re judging me. So I feel like it’s easy to open up with you.” Ashe explained. “Like.. .even how we are now… I came to you because I felt like you’d be the most open and least intimidating… although of course, I never expected things would turn out quite like this. I only thought we’d talk for a while until I’d calmed down.”   
  
“I’m... least intimidating? Even compared to the girls you know?” Cyril asked. He’d normally be a little annoyed, taking it as a remark on being a child or being weak. But with the way Ashe had said it, he felt oddly flattered instead.   
  
“Well… to be fair, part of that was just that I was afraid of things being misunderstood if I were to suddenly turn up at a girl’s room in the middle of the night…” Ashe replied.   
  
“Oh. Yeah, that seems kinda obvious, now that you say so.” Cyril said, feeling a little stupid. “Still, if liking boys is okay around here… doesn’t what we do make people suspicious too?”   
  
“Well… even though it is, or at least should be okay, there are a good chunk of nobles who aren’t fond of it… Or act supportive until it’s about their own children. They feel threatened by how it could interfere with their bloodlines, especially when it comes to Crest inheritance. So that attitude does tend to spread to others a bit. People still tend to be more likely to assume everyone’s just straight,” Ashe explained. “But still… in our case… even if people were to get suspicious, I think it’s worth it,” Ashe shyly admitted.   
  
Cyril felt a pang of fondness shoot through him at those words, and he couldn’t help but feel all mushy and hopeful inside. “Really? You’d be okay with that? I mean… with me, the rumors would definitely be worse.”   
  
“I could handle it. Being with someone I care about is more important than what narrow-minded people think of me,” Ashe said. “If I know you have a good heart, that’s what really matters.”   
  
Cyril’s eyes lit up as he found himself so delighted by Ashe’s words that he got a bit ahead of himself.   
  
“Wow… you’d really make a good boyfriend,” Cyril said, before realizing what he’d said and how it could be interpreted, causing his entire being to instantly seize with regret. Ashe was silent, but noticeably a bit more tense, and Cyril’s entire brain was  _ screaming.  _ Oh, Goddess, he was an  _ idiot.  _ He was  _ such a giant  _ ** _fucking_ ** _ idiot, oh dear sweet  _ ** _fuck_ ** _ . The absolute  _ ** _king _ ** _ of dumbasses, that’s what he was!  _ Cuddling someone in bed, and they  ** _know _ ** _ you like boys,  _ and you just come out and say something like that?! There’s only one way they could possibly take it!    
  
“Um, t-thank you, I-” Ashe awkwardly started, after a ten second pause. He was clearly in a bit of a daze himself, but Cyril quickly interrupted. All the while, he silently prayed that Ashe couldn’t tell that he was  _ definitely  _ panicking.   
  
“I-I didn’t mean anything weird, I just, it was a compliment! I only meant, uh- I only meant with like, you know! Someone you… like… in that kind of way, um, in theory. Just in theory, you know?! I just thought that was real nice of you to say, that’s all! That you’d stick up for me and stay by my side like that, it just meant a lot!”

“Oh… Oh, yeah, of course. Of course,” Ashe said. Cyril could  _ swear  _ he sounded kind of disappointed, but… he wouldn’t dare assume he was disappointed for the reason he hoped.   
  
“It was still a weird thing to say, wasn’t it?” Cyril responded, quiet and morose.   
  
“No, not at all! It just took me off guard a little! If it helps, I, um, I think you’d be great too,” Ashe said, in a hurried, slightly mumbling way that betrayed his clear embarrassment.   
  
Cyril could still feel himself about to die of a mix of happiness and embarrassment, but rather than give into the urge to get ahead of himself  _ again,  _ he simply suggested a new idea. His delivery was calm, concealing the fact that it was really just a desperate bid to save himself before he said anything else earth-shatteringly stupid or awkward. “Thanks. Now, it’s pretty late. Maybe we should just shut up and cuddle until we fall asleep.”   
  
“Good plan,” Ashe responded with a quiet chuckle, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t just as embarrassed. Still, it was hard for Cyril to be uncomfortable for much longer once things quieted and settled, Ashe spooning him from behind and comfortingly enclosing him in his arms.

Being less insecure was even harder with the knowledge that without your insecurity as a filter, you’d probably just say the dumbest and most embarrassing possible shit to roll into your gay-ass excuse for a brain.   
  
With that, Cyril decided that was enough being so…  _ forward  _ for the night. Especially since he already had such an amazing thing going with Ashe. It would be terrible to lose it after he’d put so much effort into opening up and spilling his heart out to him...   
  
Plus, Cyril had discovered that he really liked being little spoon, even if he’d never dare admit it to anyone else.   
  
With a sigh of satisfaction, Cyril closed his eyes, and slumber soon followed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen,,, i'm love Ashe/Cyril,,, I promise the next chapters will be more about other people but,,, these two are so cute,,,


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